


one word from you

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Mutually Unrequited, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 40,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Carol divorced Ed four years ago. Ed's getting remarried and he invites her to the wedding thinking she'll show up sad and alone. She needs a hot date to take with her and Daryl is more than happy to oblige.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier, Merle Dixon/Andrea Harrison
Comments: 11
Kudos: 49





	1. even though i'm satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> companion playlist (updated every chapter): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7BHX7S2XmgShgeSWPieIaY?si=F8L-dV7PQLitS-oWqh3WKw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I wrapped up my January deadlines and needed a break from studying so I started a new fic! This is my first in the TWD fandom and I haven't written in well over a year so be gentle, but it's nice to be back and I'm excited to work on this piece. Updates will probably be daily for the time being but don't know long that will last. This is gonna be a long one - not sure yet, but at least 25K! All kudos and comments are appreciated. 
> 
> Rating will be updated with each new chapter and TWs will be in top notes. I don't have a beta and I hate editing so if there are typos, overlook them. Also I'm English so my Americanisms might be a little off.

The sight of Dale Horvath at her mailbox sent Carol into a flurry of activity. His appearance at the end of her driveway informed her of her lateness. A lateness that she couldn't afford. She rushed out of the front door, smiling at him as she withdrew the mail he had just delivered. _Nothing exciting_ , she thought, leafing through the small stack of ads and bills as she made her way back up the drive.

Carol almost tripped over the doorstep as she furrowed her brow, investigating a handwritten envelope. The script was unfamiliar, oddly formal in the way the letters curled perfectly into one another. Beneath it, she noticed, was another. Exactly the same. Addressed to Sophia. Somehow that was enough to make her realise its source.

It fell from between her fingers to the floor, followed by the rest of the mail, and she drew a deep breath as she crouched to gather them up tidily. Her heart rate had already picked up a tad and she had yet to even open the envelope. A part of her wanted to throw them both into the trash and hope that, by pretending they had never arrived, she could ignore what they meant. No such luck. 

“Mom, we need to go!” Sophia called as she bounded down the stairs, pulling Carol from her thoughts. With all the happiness she could conjure, she lifted her head with a bright smile and offered the envelopes to Sophia like a gift the teen hadn't been expecting. “What are these?”

It didn’t take more than a moment for her to realise and for her expression to sour. The fifteen-year-old had long been preparing herself for the ordeal of her father’s second wedding and yet, as it drew closer, she grew only more nervous. Sophia handed them back to her mother and stepped into her shoes, forcing them onto her feet awkwardly and heading for the door.

“I’ll be out in a second, let me grab my keys,” Carol called just in time to hear the front door slam. She was nowhere near ready to leave but trackpants would have to do this morning if she wanted to be on time. Keys in hand, she snatched up an apple that she would force Sophia to eat and left the mail unopened on the countertop. 

Sophia’s driving was already capable of setting a person on edge, but the fresh anger made it worse somehow. Cars honked their horns as the beat-up Subaru GT Wagon veered past them without warning. There was a tension so thick that Carol couldn’t breathe properly without the windows down and though she had known her daughter was upset, she hadn’t been allowed to see a great deal of the fallout first-hand. Sophia was stubborn enough to keep the unfolding situation with her father locked up tight where her mother wouldn't have to see it. 

“I don’t know why he’s invited you too,” Sophia snapped suddenly as they pulled into the school’s drop-off zone. “It just seems cruel…but then I guess that makes complete sense for him. Don’t go. Don’t put yourself through it, Mom.”

“And leave you to deal with a weekend of him all on your own? Not a chance, baby. Have a good day and good luck with that quiz in Chem. We’ll talk about this tonight,” Carol insisted, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s temple before unbuckling and getting out of the passenger seat.

“Love you, Mom,” Sophia mumbled as she bid her mother goodbye and ran off towards her waiting friends. Carol whispered it back, though only she herself would hear it, and drove home.

After a shower, an impromptu spring clean of the entire house, a spontaneous baking session which produced three dozen cookies, and a circuit around the cul-de-sac delivering said cookies to each of the neighbouring houses in turn, Carol finally sat down to open the envelope addressed to her. Only in looking at it more closely did she notice the name on it: Carol Mason. A name that made her skin crawl when she imagined him saying it. A name laden with foreshadowing in hindsight. 

**Please join us for the wedding of Ed Peletier and Paula Collins on Saturday 6th May at 1pm. Tiger Point Golf Club, Gulf Breeze, FL.**   
**RSVP by Saturday 15th April.**

On the RSVP, there was a space for her to fill in the name of a plus-one and she could feel the malice with which the gap had been left. She would have to go alone, much as it would kill her, and Ed would make no secret of his satisfaction. He might even try to force her to dance with him. He would make sure that she couldn't be comfortable in his presence for even a moment and though it would hurt her to endure it, she knew it was her only real option. 

She _had_ to go. There was no way that she was trusting Ed alone with her daughter for a weekend in Florida. She had no option but to go and yet the mere prospect was enough to make her heave. All Carol could see in her head was the embarrassment that she would feel, sitting at the singles table like the sad, old woman that she was. She needed someone to reason with her before she spontaneously combusted, and there was only one person with the pragmatism to make her feel even the slightest bit better.

“Andrea? Hey, it’s Carol. Are you free right now?” It was a courtesy call. Andrea never worked before 4pm and she never busied herself with anything that she couldn’t wriggle out of, but Carol felt it was the polite thing to do. Andrea, unsurprisingly, told her to come over straight away. In ten minutes, she would be at Andrea’s house with a glass of cheap Sauvignon and a promise that everything was going to work out fine in the end. 

Sure enough, as soon as she walked through the door, Andrea wrapped her in a hug and handed her a shamefully full glass of wine. Merle was sat on the couch in nothing but his boxers, watching a drag race absent-mindedly. He didn’t even glance up at them as they entered the room and Carol wondered how joyful it must be to remain so oblivious to the rest of the world.

“Merle, go get your rocks off or somethin’. We’ve got company,” Andrea insisted, ushering him up off the sofa and out of the room, paying no mind to his grumbling. “Ok, so, what’s our plan?”

“There isn’t a plan, Andrea. I go, I try to look like my life isn’t an absolute misery and I draw no attention to myself. Then I come home and hope it’s the last I ever have to see him,” Carol offered up as she forced herself to sip the wine. “I wish I didn’t have to go but I’m not letting Soph’ face it without me.”

Andrea wasn’t convinced. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would tell you that there wasn’t a thing in the world Andrea Harrison loved more than trouble. The idea of a little mischief got her out of bed in the morning, and Carol knew that she wouldn’t be able to escape Andrea’s scheming entirely. _At least,_ Carol thought, _there's no possible way to make this worse._

“Take someone with you,” Andrea suggested, as if finding a man who was willing to drive to Florida and back was a simple task. “Find someone hot and charismatic and available and lure them away for a night of free alcohol and food.”

“And where am I going to find someone hot and charismatic and available that wants to drive to Florida with me?” Carol threw back as she felt the wine start to seep into her bloodstream just a little.

The look that came across Andrea’s face was one she knew well. It was the one that had gotten Merle arrested last year for public indecency, the one that had gotten Lori Grimes in so much trouble with her boss that she almost quit her job, the one that had (by some miracle) gotten Amy to chase after the man of her dreams and win his heart. Carol steeled herself, taking back a gulp of wine and preparing herself not to laugh too hard.

“Take Daryl. You know he’d love an excuse to get out of Savannah for a day or two. He’s hot, he’s available, and he’ll do just about anything for you. Charisma notwithstanding, it’s perfect!” Andrea exclaimed, already standing to go and ask Merle to call his brother over for lunch, before Carol caught her by the wrist and looked at her half-absurdly, half-heartbroken. “Don’t look at me like that, when has that man ever said no to you in four years of friendship?”

Carol ran her tongue over her teeth, dropping her gaze as she considered whether she could bring herself to do it. He’d say yes. She was certain of that. He always said yes when she had asked him for a favour, no matter how big. She’d feel so guilty when he did though. He’d driven two hours to pick her up from Charleston when she wrapped her car around a tree. She’d felt terrible about that too, but this felt like too much to even entertain. It felt unfair to him. 

“Merle! Can you give your brother a call and ask him to come over? Tell him I’ll make grits!” Andrea shouted before Carol could stop her, grinning fiercely at the way Carol looked like she might explode. “Just think of the look on Ed’s face when you turn up to his wedding on a Harley.”

The prospect was enough to keep her quiet. Of course, they wouldn’t take the Harley all that way, but the thought was nice. The idea of walking into the wedding and seeing Ed’s face drop when he saw a handsome man on her arm made her gut clench. She wasn’t a vengeful woman by any means, but Carol would pay good money to see the colour drain from his face. _Nothing_ would get her through the day so smoothly as the blatant disappointment on Ed's face if she arrived with a date. 

Within twenty minutes, Daryl was stepping into the house wearing the frown he seldom traded for an easier expression. They all ate grits in an awkward small talk until Daryl snapped up suddenly. 

“What do you want, Andrea? ‘Cause I know you didn’t drag me all the way here to eat grits and talk about the Grimes family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All chapter titles will be lyrics. Title is from Mitski's 'First Love/Late Spring' and this chapter is Rina Sawayama's 'Cherry'. Once I'm finished writing, I might make a spotify playlist to go with this fic for y'all.


	2. you could call me babe for the weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter TW: Slight mention of attempted sexual abuse. 
> 
> Greetings all! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Today's chapter is again - not very thrilling but there's Daryl and Carol interaction which is something I suppose. Just for clarity so nobody's confused - Daryl and Carol have known each other for four years (since a few months after the divorce was finalized) but they only interact at parties and dinners, they don't know each other very well at all at the beginning of the fic. There's going to be a lack of supporting characters throughout just because I can't be bothered to bring them in so the Grimes etc. will be mentioned but will probably not feature.

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly for a few drawn out seconds. Daryl’s jaw was tight with frustration. Carol looked like she was about to explode if Andrea didn’t say something. Merle remained clueless as he sucked idly on his fork.

“Merle baby, will you help me take these dishes through to the kitchen?” Andrea asked, ignoring Daryl’s outburst and dragging Merle out of the way.

Daryl was tapping incessantly against the small round table around which they had all squeezed, huffing impatiently as though he had somewhere to be. Both he and Carol knew that he didn’t. Neither of them had anywhere to be on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“I have a favour to ask you,” Carol began shyly, not noticing the way Daryl’s whole demeanour shifted at the sound of her voice. “Feel free to say no, in fact _please_ say no, but my ex-husband’s remarrying next month and I don’t wanna go alone if I can help it. Open bar, big fancy meal, classy hotel, and a chance to get outta Savannah for a day or two. It’s a big ask and I never _would’ve_ asked but-“

“But Andrea forced ya,” Daryl interrupted, finishing the sentence for her. “Look ‘ere, I get you probably want a nicer looking fella’ than me to make the old man jealous or whatever you’re trying for. I ain’t never been nobody’s first choice for a date in my whole life but if it gets closer to the time and you ain’t found nobody else, you give me a call and I’ll be there.”

Carol frowned at him. She wondered where it came from: the harsh scrutiny with which he judged himself. Oddly, there was a part of her that recognised the traits as her own. When she was married, when she was miserable, when she didn’t see herself as worth the effort of leaving Ed. It turned her stomach to see such self-hatred on a man so sweet and in a small way, it broke her heart. 

“Daryl,” she chastised softly, “I’d be thrilled to take you to this wedding. I just don’t want to put you out. You’re so kind, I feel like you wouldn’t say no even if you wanted to. If you really wouldn’t mind, I’d be so grateful to you.”

“I ain’t no pushover,” Daryl sneered. “I’d say no if I wanted to. I’ll take ya, you just tell me when and where and it’s a date- not a date- ya know what I mean.”

Carol’s cheeks warmed at his words and if she wasn’t afraid of offending him, she would’ve giggled. Four years of wondering who Daryl Dixon really was had led her to absolutely no real conclusions. He wasn’t a career man - he worked to make ends meet and not a moment more. He wasn’t a family man as far as she could tell. Still, he was such an enigma that she wouldn’t know if he had a wife and ten kids at home. He never said and she never found the words to ask him. She’d been trying to get to know him for almost half a decade and still, he felt like a stranger most days.

Andrea sauntered back into the room again, looking pleased with herself and Carol made an excuse to leave before she had to listen to Andrea’s smug revelations. There would be plenty of time for that later, but for now, she needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while. In the rush to figure out the logistics, she hadn’t given herself a moment to think about just how challenging the wedding was going to be. If she was going to get through the ordeal without losing her mind, she needed to have her head screwed on right. 

“I’ll give you a call at the weekend and we can iron out the details,” she suggested as she and Daryl headed down the driveway to their respective vehicles. “In case I haven’t said it already, thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing,” Daryl grumbled as he walked towards his Harley and mounted the bike, quirking his lip like he was wrestling back a smile.

Carol sat in the driver’s seat of her car until he was out of sight. She sat there and wondered what possessed Daryl to be so kind to her. She had nothing to offer him in gratitude except her company and she wasn’t proud enough to believe that was a worthwhile reward. Whatever had shaped him so, whatever had infected him with pure selflessness, was singular and had most certainly missed out his brother. 

Sophia would be thrilled. Since the divorce, Sophia had actively despised almost every man who came near her. Of course, having your own father try to force himself upon you would put anyone off men but she had taken to blaming the entire male species as a way of managing her trauma. Daryl, however, had somehow slipped under her radar. Perhaps it was just his gentle nature or maybe the fact Sophia had never seen him acting like a _man_ by any means, but she’d simply never found him deserving of her coldness. She wasn’t _afraid_ of men, she would tell Carol insistently, though she’d concede they made her nervous. It was simply that the thought of them disgusted her somewhere deep down, in a way she couldn't bring herself to rationalise. Carol chuckled at that; she couldn’t really blame her after all the girl had faced in her short life.

Carol's afternoon went by quickly. She mapped out how best to spend the next six weeks. She’d have to butter up Jacqui so that she’d cover the Friday shift, that was for sure. Her personal trainer had likely forgotten her name, but she would go back and see if there was anything the man could do to strip the extra ten pounds off her bones before the wedding came. Out of the bathroom cabinet, she pulled all of the products that she had bought from Kiehls when she forced herself to start a skincare routine last year but subsequently abandoned. It wasn’t simply that she wanted to look good so people wouldn’t pity her, she needed to look good enough that people wouldn’t see Daryl on her arm and laugh.

When she picked Sophia up after basketball practice, the teen’s reaction was just as she had imagined. Of course, she quickly invested herself in Carol’s plan to ‘show up with a glow up’ and started babbling enthusiastically about how her Mom should let her lead the hunt for a dress. It relieved Carol to see her daughter smile again. Ever since Ed had called and asked her (or rather told her) to be a bridesmaid, smiles had been few and far between. If a pet project was what it would take to stop her from fretting so much, then Carol was happy to indulge her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'Tis The Damn Season by Taylor Swift.


	3. i don't know you, but i want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Addressing a question I got in the comments about what Carol and Daryl do for work since I don't know if it'll ever be directly addressed. Daryl's a contractor/freelance labourer and Carol's just a receptionist, neither of these facts really come up much so I don't know if they'll ever be mentioned. Today, you get to see a little bit more of their dynamic together but again, nothing too juicy. All of this is leading up to good things, I swear, but I really enjoy writing the set-up for longer pieces like this. Hope you enjoy and have a good weekend, all.

Carol rang him on Saturday afternoon. She’d just finished lunch when she remembered that she’d said she would. He picked up after only two rings and she wondered if he’d been waiting for her call. It felt strange to know so little about somebody she’d known for so long, but she didn’t even know where he lived, or where he was working right now, or if he might’ve been busy on a Saturday afternoon. Something convinced her, however, that he had been sitting beside the phone for some time.

“Hey, it’s Carol,” she greeted so warmly that he could quite literally hear her smile through the phone. “Just thought I’d ring and give you the details so you can pop them on your calendar or whatever.”

He listened as she reeled off the date and time and told him that they’d probably have to leave the day before, so they didn’t have to get up ridiculously early for the drive. The last thing she wanted to do was get up at 4am and make an effort to look presentable before driving cross-country. He made approving grunts to punctuate each of her sentences and the volume of them told her that he was holding the phone against his shoulder while he wrote down her every word. The image that she conjured in her mind of him sitting, scribbling her words into the margin of an old instruction manual, made her lips curl up into a smile. 

“We should have dinner sometime. I owe you a thank you and honestly, we should probably talk a little about our plan, if there even is one. Sophia would love to see you too, that girl adores you,” she enthused, smirking at the way Sophia looked up from the TV to roll her eyes.

“Sure,” Daryl answered. “I’m outta town on a job at the moment but I’ll be back on Tuesday. Holler when you want me.”

 _Right now_ , she found herself thinking and blushed furiously, wondering where the rogue thought had come from. She suggested 6o’clock on Wednesday, biting back a laugh at his stunted pause. She barely knew the man, but she was absolutely certain that he didn’t have plans on a Wednesday evening. It was funny how they didn't know the basics about one another but they were able to understand each other better than so many of their friends could. Daryl agreed without reservation and quickly made an excuse to end the call. 

“THAT GIRL ADORES YOU?” Sophia squeaked as soon as she heard the phone set down on the kitchen counter. “It ain’t me who adores him, Mom. You’re the one who blushes when you talk to him.”

Sophia hadn’t even lifted her gaze from the television. She hadn’t _seen_ the colour in her mother’s cheeks but they both knew it was there. Carol rolled her eyes and told herself that there was no harm in having a crush on a man that she only caught fleeting glances of a dozen times a year. Christmas and Thanksgiving and every birthday party. That was all she got most years but each time, it made her smile a little wider to see the mysterious Dixon man brought out of the shadows for a few hours.

Wednesday came and she was already starting to see the results of a week back in the gym, so she was feeling pretty good as she threw on a sweater dress and pulled back her hair – now shoulder-length – into a messy bun. Being beautiful was a mindset that she had long since abandoned and slipping back into it wasn’t something that she could do overnight, so tonight was something of a trial run.

Daryl seemed won over by it. The way he bawked at her made her blush violently but he wasn’t one to comment. If he was anybody else, she might’ve made a joke about looking ‘that bad’ but he was so easily flustered, she felt guilty making him squirm. He was little better than a school boy in the presence of a decent looking woman. 

“Hi Daryl,” Sophia greeted as she came downstairs wearing skinny jeans and a pretty green shirt and held back a comment about how overdressed her mother was for dinner. “I like your jacket.”

Carol _did_ look overdressed and she was entirely conscious of the fact. Daryl didn’t dress up for anyone unless he was directly told to. He’d put on a clean button-down and he’d worn jeans that didn’t appear to be sporting any holes yet but anything more than that would’ve required an official dress code. She didn't _care_ to fit in tonight, in the comfort of her own home, she could look as overdressed as she liked and nobody would have the nerve to pass judgment aloud. 

“it’s just black bean casserole, I’m afraid,” Carol uttered as she set the dish down in the middle of the table, “if you’re in need of something higher brow, come back on a Friday.”

The joke seemed to skate right over Daryl's head as he looked at her instead of listening, trying to remain stoic as she leaned across him in her low-cut dress, apparently unaware of just how close she brushed up against him as she set stretched for the wine bottle. Daryl swallowed thickly and forced himself to smile as he waited patiently for Carol to serve.

While they ate, it felt oddly normal. Never before had it just been the three of them at the dinner table but there was none of the awkwardness he had imagined. He had worried that Carol would try to make small talk with him, or that he’d have to try and make conversation to fill the silence, but Sophia was apt to fill even a second’s quiet with her chatter. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so at ease in unfamiliar company, which he still considered Carol and her daughter to be though they were both frequent fliers in the same social groups. 

Sophia cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher obediently without being told to. Daryl looked at her as she walked away and thought of what a good kid she was. What a miracle she was. So good and a product of all that was awful. It was a testament to Carol, he supposed. Daryl found himself wondering if he could control himself when faced with the man he knew only by reputation. A reputation so muddied that he cringed to think of just how long Carol had lived under his thumb. 

“You know I’m gonna force you into a suit for the wedding, right?” Carol offered lightly, drawing him out of his thoughts as she sipped her wine. “Not that I don’t like the laid-back look, I just don’t think it fits the dress code.”

“I got suits,” he grunted, looking at her with such intensity that Carol couldn’t tell if she’d offended him. “They ain’t expensive or nothin’ but I got suits. I got a grey one and a black, you can take a look at ‘em before we go and pick which one you think’d suit better. It don’t matter now but, I’m just saying, I’ve got suits.”

Carol thought she would apologise. That was the first impulse that hit her at any given time and her mind usually did it without any conscious prompting but instead she just looked at him silently. She felt a little affronted in truth, to have known him for so long and to have never seen him wearing a suit left her impatient for the wedding. She felt slighted that such a privilege had been kept from her. _The black,_ she thought instantly, already conjuring an image in her mind of how handsome he'd look. 

“I haven’t bought a dress yet, but I’ll buy you a tie to match. We’ll look as pretty as a picture,” Carol joked, shifting in her chair to pull her feet up underneath her. “We’ll take my Subaru up if you’ve got no objections. Sophia’s a bridesmaid so her father’s bought plane tickets for her there and back, so it’ll just be the two of us for the ride.”

Sophia dropped in to say goodnight as the tell-tale hum of the dishwasher started up and she slipped upstairs to leave the two of them alone. For almost an hour, they talked easily about the wedding and about what they would tell people and, though Daryl told her he didn’t need to hear it, about why she’d asked him to go with her at all. She couldn't resist entirely the need to defend herself. Still, she felt dreadful about asking him for such a big favour, but at least she could justify it to herself and to him. 

“There was part of me didn’t wanna go at all. Hell, ‘issa huge part of me but I ain’t lettin’ Sophia face it without me,” she admitted shyly as she poured the last of the wine into her glass. “Maybe it’s a little overprotective but I don’t trust him alone with her. I don’t trust him alone with anyone I care about, no matter how ridiculous that might sound”

“Ain’t overprotective,” Daryl reasoned. “Not when he gave you a damn good reason to be. Hell, I ‘ont want either o’ you anywhere near the man but I see why you gotta’.” He didn’t _know_. Definitely not about Sophia, and not even, in truth, about Carol. But he knew Ed was a ham-fisted asshole and he knew Carol flinched when a man came too close to her without announcing himself. He knew she was more skittish than even his own mother had been, and he knew that since the divorce, Carol had dreaded it every summer when the time came for Sophia to visit her father. Daryl was no detective but he knew what two and two made. 

The wine had gone to her head. She shouldn’t have let herself drink so much but she didn’t regret it. She’d enjoyed herself. The colour in her cheeks might’ve embarrassed her if she’d have thought he’d comment but he wouldn’t. She was sure he’d never say a thing without her inviting him to. His shyness made her bolder somehow, like she didn't need to censor herself for him. 

Soon, he would make an excuse to leave. She could feel the cogs turning inside of his head and she wanted nothing more than to snap him out of it and make him believe that he was welcome here. When she looked at him, she saw someone who was ready to leave from the second he arrived, and she just wanted him to relax for a moment. 48 hours with his nervous energy would likely drive her crazy, but there was nothing she could do about it just now. Almost six weeks to make him breathe a little easier in her presence. She added it to her checklist. 

“I should get going. Got a new job and I’m headin’ up to Guyton at dawn. Some Atlanta businessman who's loaded bought a house and they need extra hands,” he said, and she was surprised he had a solid reason for her this time. She was used to things like ‘The dog’s gon’ starve’ and ‘House might be on fire’ but tonight, he was honest. Carol didn’t put up a fight. She threw a few cookies into a box and forced them on him before letting him go, insisting that he take them and telling him she’d see him soon. _Good luck with the job in Guyton_ , she told him, trying to think of something to say as an excuse to keep the door open just a second longer, until eventually she bid him goodnight and slipped back inside.

Once she was in bed, she thought of what he’d said about Ed. He was such a wild thing, all instinct and no decorum, and he looked at her like something worth looking after. At first, she’d found it a little demeaning the way he insisted on holding doors for her and walking her home (even if it was only half a block) but she’d soon come to learn that it was just his way. She couldn’t bring herself to hold it against him when his intentions were so pure. She only wondered what was going on inside his head in such moments. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Glen Hansard's 'Falling Slowly'.


	4. i know i'm not perfect but...i'm trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter TW: Slight body dysmorphic thoughts. 
> 
> Just Daryl and Carol being cuties today. Nothing too exciting. I'm really ahead of the curve with the writing on this piece (already on chapter 16), so I'm really eager to share more with y'all. I'm trying to create the mutually unrequited vibes quite organically, so please let me know what you guys think about how that's unfolding too. Writing this is honestly coming super easy to me which I always feel grateful for with longer fics. Enjoy!

Wednesday dinners became a habit after the first. Each week, she would call on Saturday and ask if he was free. The routine felt so easy, so obvious, and yet with each passing week, she had to insist with the same passion that he was always welcome. She wondered what it was that made him so insecure. He'd never _presume_ to invite himself over but a part of her wished that he would. Whatever it was certainly hadn’t rubbed off on his brother who would invite himself over at the drop of a hat if he felt like it, and Carol found herself baffled by the notion that the pair had grown up under the same roof.

Once she’d sent the RSVP for the wedding, things suddenly started to feel a lot more real. They’d conjured a whole story now. Sophia knew all the right lies to feed to her father and with every new detail, they strayed further and further from the truth. The first three and a half years of knowing each other was all true but from Christmas at Andrea’s to now was a fantasy world. They’d been caught under the mistletoe and both of them realised that happiness had been right under their noses all along and it had been a smooth ride from there. So smooth, in fact, that Sophia would plant the seed that Daryl had been asking about her mother's taste in jewellery. 

Carol had felt guilty making him lie. That wasn’t what she’d set out in hopes of. She just didn’t want to be alone at the wedding, but Sophia had cornered them both into it and eventually Daryl had agreed that it made an awful lot of sense. No point taking him along like some sort of rental service. It made her smile to watch the pair of them together scheming, and it was what she’d dreamed for Sophia and Ed. She'd always dreamt of a man who would love his children in the way that made most mothers jealous. With each time her mind wandered, she shook it off veraciously, telling herself with a greater certainty that this was all pretend and Daryl was just doing her a favour. The way he was with Sophia though, that was impossible to fake and it melted her heart.

“You been dress shopping yet?” Daryl asked her as April’s end approached. With each passing week, she had set a morning aside to go to the mall and find herself something pretty and each Sunday, she realised that the week was over, and she hadn’t even made it to the mall. Guiltily, she’d been spending more time at the office each week and trying to busy herself with non-urgent tasks just so that she could think about something other than the wedding for a while. Mr Greene made no complaints about the way she lingered in the office filing paperwork until he was ready to lock up for the night, and Jacqui wasn't about to ask questions when Carol told to go home early and see the boys.

“I haven’t found the time yet,” she offered weakly. In truth, she wasn’t sure _why_ she’d put it off so long. There was a fear in her gut that she’d hate everything she tried on. It wasn’t vanity. It was something far more violent than that and it made her wish she could just say she was unwell and not go to the wedding at all. “I’ll go this week, I swear. Sophia will drag me if she has to.”

Daryl looked at her with an expression that she couldn’t pin down. It was like he was in pain, a little, but she didn’t have the nerve to ask him what troubled him. Instead, she watched as the anguish washed over his face and he forced himself to smile again. The cycle was one she had been witness to a dozen times, most notably when he thought he was unwatched and let his performance slip for a moment, only to pull it back up the second he realised there were eyes on him. _How exhausting,_ she thought and remembered rather than imagined what it felt like to have to pretend all of the time.

“Why don’t I come too? I said I’ve got a suit but I ain’t got any proper shirts, normally borrow Merle’s,” he admitted with a smirk. “I’ll even take you to Krystal for lunch. Milkshakes all around.”

Carol knew what he was doing. It was smart. Smarter than she’d ever credited him for. The tactics were akin to those she’d used on Ed once in a while, and Sophia before she got too clever. How convenient that he _too_ was in urgent need of a trip to the mall. Still, she could hardly bring herself to turn down his offer when it _did_ make a great deal of sense to go together. She’d have to go sooner or later, so why _not_ accept the moral support and get a free milkshake out of the deal?

Sophia was thrilled when she got home from the movies to hear that they were _finally_ going dress shopping. She was living vicariously through her mother, she said, because the dress that Paula was forcing her into looked fresh off the shelves of 1989. Daryl laughed at her, wondering if it could really be that bad, only to be met with her unimpressed glare. Apparently, it really was _that_ bad. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Daryl?” Sophia asked curiously, as she dug out a small portion of cobbler and set it down on a napkin, ignoring the way her mother's eyes bulged.

“Black, I guess,” he mumbled shyly before settling on something more acceptable “or green.”

Carol _knew_ Sophia wasn’t asking out of innocent curiosity. She was certain that come Saturday afternoon, Sophia would have her trying on everything green that she could get her hands on. Green wasn’t a _bad_ colour. In fact, she’d always thought she looked quite nice in green, though it had been years since she’d worn anything in the hopes of looking pretty. The last time she’d dressed with the intention of turning heads was her _own_ wedding day. _How ironic,_ she thought.

She nibbled at her cobbler shyly, worried about the paunch that had yet to shift itself from her gut. She’d built muscle in her arms and legs, and she was packing a bit of an ass for the first time since high school, but the curve she’d been struggling to flatten since Sophia was born clung on. Each morning, when she arrived at the gym, she would examine her physique in the mirror and try to convince herself that she looked good. By the time evening came, the slight bulge had returned and she would have to start from scratch again. 

Ed would think she looked fat, but that wasn’t what bothered her. Carol didn’t care if everyone in the room thought that she could drop a few pounds so long as Daryl was alright. She didn’t want to embarrass him. Nothing frightened her more than the thought of him seeing her on the day and realising he’d made some terrible mistake and couldn’t be seen on the arm of this plain old woman. All she worried about was getting through the wedding without making a fool of herself, or worse, him.

“Carol, stop playing with your food and eat the damn thing,” Daryl snapped in his impatient way. A month ago, it might’ve startled her, but she’d grown used to him. She bit her lip and cleaned her plate, unwilling to starve herself for the sake of a man who so rarely entered her thoughts. It was Ed who thought her fat, not Daryl. Not sweet, kind Daryl who would tell her she was beautiful no matter how awful she looked in truth. Not Daryl who made a conscious effort to compliment her each time he saw her for fear that nobody else had. 

Come Saturday, she’d find a nice green dress and a matching green tie for Daryl and she’d do her utmost to stop worrying about how she looked. There were always the Spanx in her bottom drawer in case of emergencies, though her self-respect wouldn't allow her to consider the garment as anything less than the _final_ contingency. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is mxmtoon's 'Please Don't'.


	5. i don't say what's on my mind quite as much as you'd like me to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more Carol and Daryl fancying each other and not acting upon it because they're idiots. I feel like I don't exactly know how I want to characterise Sophia in this because honestly - what was her canon personality anyway? I really love the use of her in AUs because I feel like her presence really shifts the way Carol and Daryl are together, but I have absolutely no idea who she really is. Hope you enjoy this one! Wedding weekend finally commences with tomorrow's chapter!

Carol still didn’t want to go to the mall. She felt like a bratty child, but she had the overwhelming urge to tell Daryl she couldn’t make it and that they’d have to reschedule. Of course, she couldn’t do that to him and so she forced herself to get dressed. Even the thought of the mall and of its sweet store workers trying to help and the pressure of trudging from store to store in hopes of finding something suitable, made her feel nauseous. 

She had tried to insist on meeting Daryl at the mall but once he had learned that Sophia would be meeting them there, he’d told her that he’d be over in twenty minutes. There wasn't energy left in her reserves to argue with him and so she accepted her fate. Right on time, he pulled up onto the curb and waited patiently for her to emerge. Carol hadn’t expected him to bring the bike. It made no sense for him to dust off his old truck for a trip to the mall, but she found herself excited. 

“Hey,” she greeted as she approached him, mounting the back of the bike without a moment’s hesitation.

“Hey yourself,” Daryl answered with a smirk that she could hear more than see as she wrapped one arm tight around his waist and used the other to hold her purse in place. “Hold on tight.”

The ride was everything she loved about the road. She’d missed it. So rarely did she have an excuse to go anywhere but work and Sophia’s school. Long drives had been her escape once and she found reasons wherever she could but now, she had nothing to run from and what was the point of driving with no destination? It was just a waste of gas. The mall wasn't far, but the freedom she felt on the bike put her Subaru to shame, and she wondered if there wasn't some excuse she could conjure to take the bike to Florida. 

Sophia had definitely had a Starbucks with her friends though she denied it sternly, and Carol wasn’t about to load her up with any more sugar just yet. They would shop first, eat later. Carol let herself be dragged by the wrist like a ragdoll from store to store, leafing through rack after rack until she gave up her efforts and stood waiting for Sophia to thrust things at her. Nothing she found was going to meet Sophia's expectations. There was something soothing in accepting defeat. 

As the day went on, Sophia's suggestions seemed to get, somehow, more ridiculous. Carol was forced to try on a dress so short that she couldn’t even take a full stride without worrying about showing her ass to all and sundry. Sophia passed her something velvet which clung to her so tightly that she refused to even let her daughter see what it looked like. All day, Sophia refused to accept a single suggestion that wasn’t green, and Carol knew this wasn’t going to be as easy as she had first imagined. Nothing was when it came to Sophia. 

Daryl was flicking through hangers as he waited silently for the pair to settle upon a selection. Sophia saw him pause on something: a dress in a green so deep that in a softer light it might have looked black. Satin. Long sleeves. A deep v-neck. A few inches below the knee. Nothing Carol could bring herself to complain about as she was corralled into the dressing room.

It didn’t look like her in the mirror. For a moment, she thought that might be a good thing, but she concluded that it wasn’t. She looked like she was trying to be somebody else, but this was the eighth dress she'd tried on, and it was the first that she hadn’t hated on sight, so she would at least see what Sophia thought.There were worse things in the world than looking like she'd tried just a little too hard, and if it meant they could leave, she would accept her fated appearance as mutton dressed as lamb. 

“It’s _perfect,_ Mom!” Sophia squealed with glee the second she laid eyes on her mother. Carol wasn’t paying attention to her daughter though, because she had noticed the way that Daryl’s jaw flexed with dislike each time she stepped out, but this time, there was no flex. There was in its place a perfect stillness that she’d never witnessed on his face before and could only presume was something close to satisfaction. “That’s the one!”

There was no stopping Sophia, and so she humoured her daughter and bought the dress with every intention of returning alone before the wedding and finding a more modest alternative. For now, at least she had _something_ to wear. Her marriage had steered her taste to something more matronly, something that aged her, something that was easy to defend. Though the dress was objectively perfect, she couldn't deny feeling like a fool in it. 

After a comparably dashed search for a white shirt and a tie in the same shade of green, they were done. Daryl dragged the pair of them to Krystal for the lunch that he had promised. It wasn’t entirely clear whether it was _them_ he was treating, or himself for getting through the ordeal of almost two hours' shopping. Greasy, meaty excellence blew into their noses as soon as they stepped inside and Carol became starkly aware that she was half-starved. 

“A vanilla milkshake for you,” Daryl said as he handed Carol her milkshake as promised and thrust the strawberry atrocity towards Sophia with a theatrical scorn. “Disgustin’!”

Sophia rolled her eyes at him and took a long, dramatic sip of her milkshake. The playfulness between the pair made Carol's gut clench and she forced herself to ignore it, drinking until she got a brain-freeze. They ate a corn pup each and chatted idly about nothing in particular. Daryl would never admit how much he loved their company, how happy he found himself every time they asked him to come to dinner, but seeing the Mason girls was the only thing he really looked forward to anymore. Where his sudden attachment to the girls had come from, he was entirely unsure, but it wasn't budging. 

“I should get going, I told Quinn that I’d meet her at 5,” Sophia announced, making her excuses and she drained the last of her milkshake and shot off. “See you at home, Mom!”

Daryl chuckled at the girl. He wondered what it was like to have a youth like hers. So _easy_ now, though he knew it hadn’t always been, and with so much love everywhere she turned. She never seemed to let the shit stick to her, and Daryl envied her. He’d seen her sad before once or twice, but it never stuck around long. _Still young_ , Daryl thought, _still figuring it all out._ Carol's happiness, however, was harder to catch sight of, like some elusive creature he was hunting and couldn't see in more than glimpses, though with each glimpse, he only doubled down in his efforts. 

“We should probably head out too.” Carol’s words stirred him from his thoughts, and he nodded, stacking their mess onto the tray and standing to leave. “Thank you for this.”

He wasn’t sure whether she meant the milkshake or the day or what exactly, so he just shrugged her off. Honestly, Carol wasn’t sure either. She just knew she was incredibly grateful for him. It was her gratitude, she’d tell herself, that drove her to invite him for dinner. He was probably sick and tired of her and she felt bad knowing that he wouldn’t turn her down, but she couldn’t get enough of his company. For as long as he was with her, she could distract herself from her woes. His was a presence that eased her every concern. 

“Sure, I gotta go see Merle about a job so I’ll head on over there and you just call me when you want me,” Daryl suggested as he pulled up outside her house for the second time that day, turning his head to meet her gaze as she stepped back from him. The wind had gotten caught up in her hair and as she tried to beat it back into submission, he found himself watching the way her silver curls danced around her face. 

"See you in an hour or so?" Carol offered as she pulled her keys from her pocket and headed for the front door, unaware of the eyes that had adhered themselves to her ass as she sauntered up the driveway.

Daryl drove off without answering her. Often, in her company, he found himself speechless. Paralysed with fear that he would say the wrong thing or simply incapable of conjuring anything of meaning. Quietness was in his nature and he leant heavier on it when Carol was around. He had nothing to talk to Merle about, of course, but his brother’s place was just a little closer and he didn’t want to waste gas driving all the way home just to turn around. That’s what he told himself, anyway, as he parked up at Merle's house and patted his pocket to make sure he had his phone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is JP Saxe and Charlotte Lawrence's 'The Few Things'.


	6. in your car, the radio up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the wedding weekend is here! I feel like this is where it actually gets interesting to read so I hope you enjoy it! Posting a little early today, just because it's done anyway and there's no point in waiting the extra few hours. Kudos and comments are really appreciated, I'm entirely unknown in this fandom so I don't know if anyone's reading and enjoying this and I am a sucker for the validation. Enjoy this one, and please listen to the bluegrass song in the end notes because I feel like it's so perfect for both Caryl and also just for TWD in general!

The entire week preceding the wedding, Carol barely slept. She would toss and turn in bed until she heard the birds start chirping some nights. When she couldn’t sleep, she went running. Just a tiny little circuit around the neighbourhood so Sophia wouldn't wake alone and start to worry but she thought it better to make use of all the nervous energy that she was harbouring. At work, she typed so violently that more than once Mr Greene had emerged from his office to ask her if everything was alright. As it drew closer, she only seemed to dread it more and by the time Friday arrived, she worried that she'd go mad before they even reached Pensacola. 

She’d found another dress. A plain-looking sweater dress in the same forest green. She had _not_ however been able to bring herself to return the one Daryl had spotted and so she packed both in her suitcase and told herself that courage would dictate which she wore on the day. Along with the two dresses, she packed a t-shirt to sleep in and her beloved gold Steve Madden’s. Toiletries, make-up, and the Spanx that she was determined not to wear.

Daryl turned up clean shaven for the first time in four years and it took her a second to process. She saw the bike and the shaggy hair – less greasy than usual – and knew it was Daryl, but it was the sort of thing she had to check more than once. He’d definitely gotten a haircut, she concluded upon closer inspection and he was wearing his nice jeans today. He had shown up on the bike with nothing but a garment bag that Andrea had definitely thrust upon him at the last minute. He didn’t comment on the suitcase that he spotted in the trunk, biting back the words before they even formed in his mind. It was none of his business what she deemed necessary for her ex-husband's wedding. 

“We should get ahead o’ the day, don’t wanna be driving in the dark. Don’t know about you but I don’t know Pensacola from Panama City and that ain’t the sorta mistake we wanna be making,” Daryl uttered, standing awkwardly by the car, not wanting to be presumptuous and head for the driver’s side but clearly _wanting_ to drive. 

“Driving makes me kinda sleepy and I’m already a little worse for wear today so you drive there, and I’ll drive back?” Carol offered with a smile, stepping slowly towards the passenger-side door.

It wasn’t a lie, per se. She _was_ worse for wear. Sophia had left yesterday for ‘family bonding time’ with the Evil Stepmother and she’d barely shut her eyes last night. She'd run around the neighbourhood until her legs started to ache, and when she'd seen the first light of dawn, she'd raced home to try and get a moment's rest. Luckily, the skincare routine meant that her under-eyes did not give way to exhaustion quite so eagerly, but if she could catch up on her beauty sleep, she wouldn’t object.

Daryl slipped into the driver’s side wordlessly, reaching under the seat and shifting the chair back so he wasn’t crushed up against the steering wheel. She was shorter than him, certainly, and it hadn't gone entirely unnoticed but they were so rarely close to one another. The however many inches between them had never seemed apparent until he was driving her car. Carol, somewhat discretely, copied his action so that they were in line and she could glance across at him easily, not that she had any intentions of doing so but she had no interest in giving herself. a sore neck trying to keep up a conversation.

The drive started off easily. Everything was running smoothly and the silence in the car was comfortable. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to let her rest or if he simply enjoyed the quiet, but she _hated_ it, even with him. It reminded her of the awkward moments between the smack and the blubbering apology, or the tension at the dinner table when one of their friends made a comment Ed didn’t like, and she had to fight the urge to speak just to fill it. It wasn't the quiet itself. Solitude soothed her more easily than anything else. It was the white noise that lived between two people who simply didn't know what to say to each other. 

When she looked at Daryl, there was so much that she could say. Every time she caught sight of him, Carol thought of a dozen new questions that she sought answers for, but she never asked them. Theirs was a relationship of convenience. They spoke when they saw each other and engaged in little more than small talk. If she and Daryl were seated next to each other at dinner, they would spend most of the night talking to whoever was on their other side. It wasn't a matter of dislike - there was nothing so substantial between them as to call it that - but rather absolute indifference. Daryl knew her name and her face and little more than that, and it didn't seem like he was interested in building a more detailed profile. 

“You mind?” Carol asked as she reached forward to the radio, waiting for an approving grunt before switching it on and finding a soft bluegrass song to fill the quiet. She found herself drifting to sleep as she listened, unwilling to put up a fight against the lull of the car. It was strange to her how easily she could fall asleep in the most exposed of spaces, but in her own bed, she would struggle to find rest for hours some nights. The steady bounce of wheels against tarmac rocked her to sleep in a way stillness failed to, and she slept properly for the first time all week. 

Daryl glanced over and caught sight of her, curled up into the seat with her head hanging at an angle that he knew she would later regret. If he were bolder, he might've tried gently to readjust her but he worried that he would wake her. Softness was one of many skills in which he was lacking, and so he settled on something easier. He timidly brushed a stray hair out of her face, behind her ear, telling himself that it was nothing even as he quivered at the touch of her warm skin. His eyes flicked between her and the road constantly, steering carefully around potholes and peering over at the map laid open in her lap each time he passed a junction. 

All the way to the state line, Carol kept on sleeping and he attentively played with the radio’s volume each time a song came in a little too loud or too soft. She was so peaceful that he wondered if they couldn’t drive straight past Pensacola. He’d keep on driving until they got to Mexico just to see her so calm. Calmer than he’d ever seen her, he reckoned, and even moreso when he thought of just how on edge she’d be once she woke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Lorde's 'Supercut'. The first bluegrass song that plays on the radio is Lindsay Lou's 'Everything Changed'.


	7. you somehow turn up when i'm at my weakest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Slight reference to attempted sexual abuse & domestic violence. 
> 
> I'm co-posting this on Nine Lives now, so you can find it there as well if it's your preferred platform! I'm also going to increase updates (at least temporarily) to twice a day, just until I run out of the backlog that I built up over the past week. Hope you enjoy, and hope you aren't getting too sick of the slow burn. I know people kind of enjoy a quicker story given the ten years of slow burn we've put up with in canon, but I feel like a sudden romance just doesn't make sense for the characters.

Carol came to, slowly. The music pervaded her dream first, then she saw the gold of the sunset against the inside of her eyelids, and eventually, she remembered where she was. Almost impulsively, she opened her mouth to apologise but she stopped herself. Her therapist had told her to try resisting the urge to be sorry for everything and she’d been doing an alright job so far. With each meagre victory, it got a little easier to believe that she ought not apologise for her very existence. 

“Morning, buttercup,” Daryl teased as she rolled her neck, forcing it to crack loudly. “Hey now, you know that ain’t gotta be good for you. You wanna rock up to this wedding in a brace?”

Again, she went to apologise and resisted. To distract herself, she leaned forward and played with the radio, finding a channel with something a little more lively. Daryl looked at her with an arched eyebrow like she’d snatched the TV remote for no good reason, but she didn’t change it back and he didn’t ask her to. Theirs was likely the most laconic of all her life's relationships and it made her wonder if he was like this with everyone, or whether it was just in her presence. 

“Where are we?” Carol asked, peering out of the window as if the interstate would offer her a straight answer.

“Just past Tallahassee shouldn’t be too much longer now, probably just over halfway I reckon,” Daryl answered with ease, checking the fuel gauge for the first time since setting off. “What time d’you tell Sophia to expect us?”

She had told her daughter that they’d eat together. It would likely be dark by the time they arrived but Sophia would rather wait than endure another dinner with her father, so there was no rush. The thought of arriving at their destination made her gut clench with dread. Since the divorce was finalised, she'd seen Ed only once and they hadn't said a word to each other. In the irrational corner of her thoughts, she imagined him seeing her across the hotel restaurant and charging at her with an untameable fury.

As she watched the speedometer dance on the 80 mark, Carol found herself wondering if it wasn't Daryl who was in a rush. He tapped out the rhythm of the song against his knee with one hand, bouncing his leg in the way that she often found herself doing. Was there something wrong? Instead of asking like any logical person might, she simply sat there and wondered. 

Small talk had never been their thing but the quiet was making her itch, and so she had to fill it somehow. She asked him about the last wedding he’d attended. She asked him about Merle and Andrea. She conjured questions that she had never wondered about for more than a second simply because it was better than the alternative.

“So, this Paula, dumb bitch, how come she’s marrying that clown?” Daryl asked. She might have answered him with a snide comment about not being able to do better if she hadn’t heard the hitch in his tone. She _knew_ what he was asking without him ever having saw the words. Somehow, despite a failure to understand him on the most fundamental level, Carol found herself able to read his minute gestures and make sense of them. She'd understood the way he flinched at sudden movements and she'd taken the time to study his movements and build a profile out of every evidential scrap that she could gather. 

Nobody _knew_ per se that her husband was an abusive pig. Nobody but her lawyer and her daughter and her shrink. Of the three, only her shrink knew the whole truth. Her lawyer knew what she had deemed essential and Sophia knew only what Carol had failed to keep from her. People knew fragments but they normally took it upon themselves to fill the gaps instead of asking. Stories were passed around like some absurd game of Chinese Whispers but as it ran its course, she tried to lose sight of it entirely. She didn’t need to tell the world about her failed marriage, it wasn’t their business and with or without her permission, everyone in her proximity would come quickly to know some form of the truth. 

“Oh, she knows,” Carol drawled, almost sadly. “She knows plenty. But she ain’t never met his temper, I’ll tell you that. She insists that I was just an awful wife and that Ed’s a good man who just needs to be treated right. Pretty sure he’s told her all about me. What he did and why he did it. I’m not in the business of saving girls from themselves. I did what I could. Ain’t nobody bothered tryna save _me,_ I’ve done what I can for her.”

Her memory was clouded with thoughts of just how much she’d overlooked herself. For twenty long years, she had shrugged off the slaps and the punches and the drunkenness and told herself that it was nothing she couldn’t bear. It had taken her daughter coming to her sobbing and telling her that Daddy had tried to strip her clothes off to make her wake up and leave. If it weren't for her daughter, she would likely still be Ed's wife. She would be even more timid than she had thought herself capable of, or she would be a recluse, _or_ she would be dead. In all eventualities, she would not have the life she now valued so greatly. It was a humbling thing for a grown woman to owe so much to her child. 

It made Daryl’s skin crawl. The thought of laying eyes on the man was enough to boil his blood and he would have to engage all of his self-control to endure a day in the man’s presence. Ed had already had the good grace to move out of state when Daryl met Carol for the first time, and so he knew him only by reputation. He had heard stories from Andrea. Of the stench of whiskey that never entirely left his breath, and of the confident grabs he made at any woman who dared to get in his way. Merle had only met the man once, and for less than five minutes at that, but he had heard his brother insist that no man was more deserving of a trip down a flight of stairs. 

“You best steer clear tomorrow,” Daryl mumbled, not taking his eyes off the road as he spoke.

“I ain’t scared o’ him, Daryl. I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much,” Carol bit back, affronted by the suggestion that she wasn’t old enough and wise enough to look after herself after all this time, but she saw the way he shrunk back from her and regretted it immediately.

“Ain’t you I’m worried for. It’d be a helluva thing to cause a scene and I ain’t interested in that, but if he so much as looks at you sideways-“ Daryl trailed off, trying to press back the crimson possibilities that his imagination painted when he thought of finally meeting the infamous Ed Peletier. Carol blushed high in her cheeks, though Daryl didn’t see it, and that wasn’t why he was saying it. It wasn’t just for her. It was for Sophia, and for the poor bitch who was marrying him, and in some small way for himself too.

Carol started humming along to the song, unable to think of anything worth saying but another thankyou that he’d shrug off like he hadn’t heard it. She focused on the music, letting herself think about what tomorrow _could_ be. Not the version she feared where Ed cornered her in the bathroom and slapped her for even showing up, but a version where people were kind to her, and Daryl was sweet, and Sophia was happy. A version that felt all but impossible, and yet she let herself indulge the fairytale. 

Daryl’s thoughts wandered the same way. His vision was admittedly a little more dramatic. He’d break Ed’s nose and he’d steal a bottle of champagne and take Carol to the beach to drink it. Sophia would hug him the way she had when he threatened Carl Grimes for trying to kiss her without asking first and he’d dread coming back to the reality of Savannah. Where this sudden fascination with Carol and her girl came from he couldn't be sure, it had certainly never made itself known until recently, but Daryl found himself seeking their approval and their attention more with each passing day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is MUNA's 'Navy Blue' and the song Carol is humming along to is Dolly Parton's 'Here You Come Again'.


	8. if you want, you could stay with me in my bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bed-sharing time! I hope y'all are enjoying this now it finally has legs! Two updates a day for the time being because I hate having finished stuff sitting on my desk.

As a result of Daryl's seasoned driving and a bout of luck with the traffic, they arrived in Pensacola ahead of schedule. The pair even had the chance to check in at the hotel before they met Sophia for dinner. Carol fixed her hair and dumped her suitcase by the door, leaving it with every intention of moving to Sophia’s room after they'd eaten dinner. 

The hotel restaurant was busy. Most people were finishing up their meals by the time the two met Sophia and took a table by the window. In the day, it was probably a beautiful view of the golf course and Carol thought it a shame that they hadn't got here before sunset. If all went well, they'd be gone halfway home by this time tomorrow and whatever tomorrow promised would be an already fading memory. 

“I missed you! Ain’t that funny? S’only been a day but I missed you,” Carol exclaimed as she squeezed her daughter tightly and dropped into her seat. “How’s it been so far?”

Sophia laughed at her Mom as she caught the waiter’s attention, summoning him over as if she was in a hurry. Carol didn’t let the action go unnoticed as she flipped open her menu and settled quickly on the Caesar salad. Not bothering to cast a glance at the proper mains for fear of being tempted. It might have been the long car ride, or the looming threat of tomorrow, or something else entirely but she felt too sick to eat anything substantial.

They ordered promptly and while they waited for the food to arrive, Sophia ranted about her soon-to-be stepmother, careful to keep her voice down for fear that Paula might be lurking within earshot somewhere. The bonding time had left Sophia more eager than ever to get the wedding over with so that she might never again have to interact with her father or his new bride again. Carol wondered if she wasn't making a big deal out of the situation for _her_ benefit, in some misguided effort to make clear that Paula was nothing that even vaguely resembled a threat. 

“She’s put us all on the same corridor like it’s some huge slumber party except – Thank God – with more walls. She’s right across the hall from me and it’s like she’s a bat! Every time I open my door, she pops her head out to ask me how I’m doing,” Sophia muttered through a scowl. _Well, Plan A would have to be aborted_ , Carol thought, feeling guilty for her own self absorption as she listened to her daughter's complaints. The only thing worse than not sharing a hotel room with Daryl would be getting _caught_ not sharing a hotel room with him and it simply wasn't a risk that they could afford to take.

“This b-” Daryl caught Carol’s gaze and stopped himself before cursing, “lady grows on me more each time y’all mention her. Can’t wait to meet the sweet talker.”

Carol couldn’t bring herself to ask him if he minded sharing the room with her. She’d die for the shame of it. That particular obstacle could wait until they’d eaten. All through dinner though, she could hardly think of anything else. Every time Sophia addressed her, her daughter had to snap her fingers to bring her back into the room. She couldn't get herself to concentrate, and even her salad went untouched but for the chicken she had extracted piece by piece.

“By the way, he booked your room for two nights so you can’t sneak off early tomorrow. I’ll see the both of you tomorrow,” Sophia exclaimed as she wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and stood to leave. “Wish me luck with Cruella.”

Whatever Daryl said to Sophia went unheard by Carol, she was in a world of her own and concern clouded her every thought. Sophia's nonchalant comment truly was the cherry on top of an already disastrous weekend and she wanted to curl up and hibernate until it was time to go home. Daryl didn’t move, nor did he speak. He was better at waiting than just about anyone else in the world, and so he waited patiently for her to say whatever it was that had her so bound up.

“You mind if we share the room tonight? I’ll take the chaise,” Carol muttered awkwardly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I was gonna stay in Sophia’s room but I can’t have Paula seeing me sneaking out at dawn. ”

“Share the damn bed, woman. As long as you’re gon’ keep your hands to yourself,” he teased shyly. “We’re grown…I know how to share.” 

Carol smiled at him timidly, throwing back the last of her wine and standing to leave. She’d thought it would be more awkward, but Daryl didn’t possess the social cues to know what was awkward and what wasn’t. He asked if she wanted to stay the extra night, said he was more than happy to be her scapegoat if she needed one but insisted that he was in no rush to get home if she wanted to stay. They'd stay, she decided, if only to make the trip worthwhile. His calm demeanour put her at ease somehow as she slipped into the bathroom and showered. 

It wasn’t until she went to dress for bed that she realised she’d only brought a damn t-shirt. She was supposed to share with Sophia, and it was May for Christ’s sake, but she should’ve prepared a contingency. All she had were her jeans and she could hardly sleep in those without looking like an idiot. She steeled herself, trying to look nonchalant as she slipped out of the bathroom in the oversized t-shirt and scuttled over to the bed.

“I’ll shower in the morning, it’s getting damn late already,” Daryl muttered as he turned to face her, stunned when he caught sight of her though he tried to hide it. “We should probably get an early night.”

Carol didn’t have the nerve to tease him. It was late and they needed an early night. Whatever that meant. She accepted his words silently and slipped into the right side of the bed, knowing there was no point asking which side he preferred. He followed suit, now dressed in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, sliding under the covers and clinging to the bed’s edge as though he was scared of brushing up against her in his sleep.

“You nervous for tomorrow?” Carol whispered into the fresh darkness of the room as she turned off the lamp, waiting a moment for a response which didn’t come. “I am.”

“Ain’t got no need for that. We’re gonna get all dolled up and we’re gonna make all of his friends wonder why the hell he left a peach like you and we’re gonna make the most of that open bar he’s paid for,” Daryl stated as though it was the easiest thing in the world, and his confidence made her believe it too. “That dumb bitch is gon’ be mad you look prettier than her on her wedding day, too.”

Carol wouldn’t argue with him. She refused to when his version of events was so much nicer than hers. She wondered if he’d hold her in his arms if she asked, if he’d squeeze the worry right out of her and leave her feeling at ease. The urge to ask was strong but she was stronger. He’d do it out of obligation, she was sure, because he’d never found a way to say no to her before and she couldn’t imagine he was going to start now. Not when she’d already forced her way into his bed. She curled up against the mattress’ edge and forced her eyes shut, telling herself that it was only a couple more days and then they could go back to being strangers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is beabadoobee's 'If You Want To'


	9. your face in the morning, it just glowed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning of the wedding! It seems like this feels so much more dragged out now that we're finally getting somewhere, but I'm sorry to say there will be no sudden relief from the angst or the slowburn. I'm not that nice. Hope you're enjoying!

Daryl was relieved when he woke first. His body had decided to betray him. He’d woken with a woody in his sweatpants and he thanked God for his tendency to wake early, slipping into the bathroom to shower. If there anything that could possibly make Carol's morning any worse, it was waking up to such an unbecoming sight. 

He took the garment bag with him into the bathroom and let the steam pull out the slight creases that had formed in it. He slipped the outfit on and realised for the first time just how dumb he looked, like a boy dressed up in his Daddy’s clothes, but it was the best he could. He never was the sort of guy who could pull off a suit but he supposed it didn't matter much how _he_ looked. On today of all days, he hoped to be all but invisible. 

The place was damn fancy, that was clear. In the vanity, there was a shaving kit complete with aftershave and he quickly got rid of the previous day’s stubble, careful not to dirty his suit before dabbing the scent behind his ears. He wondered if it cost extra to use the stuff that they provided. A sour part of him hoped that it did just so he could imagine Ed's face when he received his bill. 

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he realised that the sun was only just coming up. He’d jumped the gun a little. He imagined his morning would be spent waiting for Carol to get ready and honestly there were more exhausting pastimes than sitting around and waiting for a woman to do her hair and makeup. Not that he knew much about women’s habits but Andrea sure did take her time.

Carol stirred in bed, waking and seeing him already dressed, starting up like she was about to panic.

“Easy, girl,” Daryl soothed as he dropped himself into an armchair and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. “I woke early, guess I didn’t realise quite how early but you’ve got plenty o’ time. Don’t be stressing.”

She smiled at that, relaxing back into the pillow for a second before dragging herself out of bed. Carol didn’t _need_ another shower and honestly, she hated showering in the morning most days, but Ed was paying so she ought to make the most of it and it meant a few minutes in her own head. It would help her, she prayed, to feel like a real human being again. 

Wordlessly, she headed into the bathroom and heard the TV turn on. It was going to be a long day. The shower managed to make her feel a little better, if only by waking her up, but she’d hoped she might wash off the anxiety. Her hopes amounted to nothing and as she stepped out of the shower and faced the mirror, she knew with a certainty that she couldn’t bring herself to wear the dress. Her body looked good and she wouldn’t pretend otherwise. Six weeks back in the gym had firmed up her stomach and toned her arms and legs up. She looked better than she ever had when she was married, but it didn’t stop her feeling ridiculous.

Some women were born to wear dresses like the one Daryl had chosen, and some women were not. She was _pretty_. She had a nice little body. She wasn't sure exactly what it was that made the dress look so out of her place on her but she knew that it would look like a farce if she even bothered trying.

She did her makeup first. Carefully, she coated her eyelids in a barely-there gold. Bronzer brought some life to her naturally pale complexion. The lipstick was too much, she decided, wiping it off and trying her best to overlook the slight stain it left behind. Her hair was pinned back neatly with two strands left framing her face and she decided she was presentable enough, even without the Spanx that she had considered for just a brief instant. 

“That what you’re wearing?” Daryl asked in a sharp tone as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, looking her up and down. “What happened to that dress Sophia found you?”

“I-uh, it’s in my suitcase. I felt a little silly wearing something so fancy, thought I’d wear this instead. You don’t like it?” Carol stumbled over her words nervously, refusing to meet his gaze even as she spoke to him. “I can go change, I just thought-”

“You wear what you want, it ain’t no business o’ mine. I just worry Sophia might kill you if she sees you in anything but that dress,” Daryl joked, trying to cut through the tension and failing. “You ain’t gotta make yourself small for him. I know tha’s what you’re doin’. You wanna make yourself look plain so maybe he won’t notice you at all, but Carol you’re still gon’ be the prettiest woman in that room today even if you show up in a t-shirt. Ain’t up to me but I think you’re tryna be the person he thinks you are, ‘stead o’ the person you really are.”

Carol bawked at him. She couldn’t bring herself to hide her surprise. He’d never been so frank with her, not in four damn years, and suddenly he found his voice. It startled her. What startled her more, though, was the fact that he was right, and she knew it. Making herself small for Ed. Never letting herself be the centre of attention. That had got her through twenty years in a miserable marriage. The habit was something that she hadn't found the courage to let go of yet. 

Without skipping a beat, she slipped back into the bathroom with her suitcase and changed, not even glancing at the Spanx as she pulled the dress over her head strategically. She looked good, and she was glad in some way that Daryl had spoken his mind. Perhaps there _was_ still an essence of playing dress up but wasn't she allowed? After all this time, hadn't she earned the right to look beautiful for once in her life?

It was still only 10am and the ceremony wasn’t until 1. Sophia would be at the brunch, but God’s grace had saved them from that particular torture. It was only for the _close_ family, but which they meant the people who actually liked both bride and groom. Carol imagined it would be an intimate affair with such hard to meet stipulations. Instead, they would order room service just to piss Ed off and watch reruns until the time came to leave, though Carol knew she wouldn't eat for fear of spilling something on the dress, or of bloating, or of throwing up halfway through the ceremony.

Carol messed with her hair, adjusting and readjusting it as she feigned interest in whatever network Daryl had switched to. Unable to sit still. Fidgeting simply for the sake of something to do. Daryl reached over pulled the hair tie out and wrapped it around his wrist deftly, ignoring the way she tried to snatch it back.

“Wear it down,” he grunted. “You didn’t grow it out to keep it tied up all the time.”

She didn’t argue with him, nor did she try to reclaim the hair tie from his wrist, simply ran her fingers through the curls and settled back against the headboard. It was _I Love Lucy._ It had been years since she caught more than a glimpse of that show and for a second, everything felt perfectly normal and her panic was nudged down her itinerary for the day. She had bigger concerns than whether her hair looked alright anyway, but they could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Tom Rosenthal's 'Hugging You'.


	10. 'cause you're always on my team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding debacle continues. No relief from the angst, I'm afraid, not yet, but soon I swear! I'm so closed to finished with the writing of this that I might just dump it all at once when I'm done rather than keeping you all in suspense. That feels a little cruel, but for now enjoy another update!

Daryl was careful to slip in near the back and let Carol hide herself behind a pillar where nobody would see her. He understood her anxiety and he wasn’t going to force her to make a show if she didn’t want to. She'd lived half her life in the shadow of someone bigger and meaner than her and it was where she found comfort. A selfish part of him was grateful to be able to keep her to himself a while longer. 

He’d had to hold his breath to keep from making some involuntary noise when she straightened out her dress and and gave her nose one last coat of powder. There was no way in hell she knew how good she looked, if she did then she’d be wearing a much wider smile. He didn't find it sweet like he might have on anybody else. He was almost irate when he saw yet another tell-tale sign that the world had taught her so many lies about herself and he only hoped that she didn't mistake it for frustration with her directly. Some girls _knew_ they were pretty, and they played coy for the sake of a compliment or even out of a genuine need for validation, but not Carol. She wasn't looking for someone to tell her she was beautiful, and even if they had, she likely wouldn't have believed the words.

A very guilty part of him was pretending this was all real. It was a harmless ruse, and he would never say a word, but he could think it in the comfort of his own mind. An unworthy man fawning over her was the last thing she needed right now but she remained oblivious. The only things she ever seemed aware of were the things that might hurt her, either now or in some distant future. 

“It’s a nice dress, isn’t it?” Carol whispered as Paula started her procession down the aisle on her Daddy’s arm.

“Y’can put lipstick on a pig,” he answered, eyes wide as she dug her nails into his forearm like claws as she tried desperately not to laugh. She loosened her grip once she could breathe again but didn’t let go entirely, leaving her fingers cupped around her wrist.

As the ceremony went on, both of them tried their utmost to pay attention but honestly, neither of them cared. Sophia looked wonderful, though Carol understood without difficulty her dislike for the taffeta gown. It was gaudier than anything she would've looked at even from a distance. She would tell her so later on, once the day was over and she could no longer worry about how the photos would turn out.

Daryl grew bored very quickly and started to fiddle with a loose thread at the cuff of his suit, pulling at it until Carol snatched his hand up in her own and forced him to look forward. He had the attention span of a disruptive kid in class, but he was on his best behaviour today, if only to make her happy. He pushed his tongue up against the roof of his mouth and held a straight face until the minister declared them wed. Eventually, the bride and groom engaged in a rather violent display of affection and Daryl let out a breath he’d been holding for the last twenty minutes. Carol looked at him with concern, but he shrugged her off, returning his attention to Mr and Mrs Potato Head.

Everybody gathered outside for photos and Daryl and Carol were careful to stay a safe distance from the camera. They needed nothing less than the immortalisation of this day they were impatiently begging to end. Carol knew she’d get caught in the back of a few whether she liked it or not, but she wasn’t going to _try._ She and Daryl stood close to the doors and watched quietly as different formations were gathered and dispersed one by one.

Sophia weaved her way through the heaving crowd and found her mother hiding in the shadows. She smiled more genuinely than Daryl had ever seen before, pursing her lips together as she wrapped her mother in a suffocating hug. Together, the pair seemed entirely unmatched: Carol in her elegant satin green and Sophia in coral taffeta. 

“You look amazing, Mom,” Sophia beamed. “Both of you do! You’ll be all anyone’s talkin’ about.”

“Stop,” Carol chastised, “this is your father’s big day. I want _you_ to have a good time and that is the only thing that matters to me. Go! Take some more pictures!”

The teen went without resistance, slinking off back to her father’s side where she posed obediently just as the photographer told her to. It didn’t go unnoticed by Daryl the way that she stiffened when her father wrapped his arm around her, but he would only keep an eye rather than worrying Carol unnecessarily. Ed was a bastard but he wasn't a fool. He would never act improperly in front of so many people, in front of his new wife's family, in front of people who had likely heard nothing of his dark past. 

“You will, you know,” Daryl uttered quietly to Carol. “You’ll be the only one folks can remember setting eyes on.”

Carol couldn’t help the blush that coloured her cheeks a warm pink. Daryl was so sweet to her, and he was so good at this, she wondered why he wasn’t settled down already if his moves were this smooth when he wasn’t even trying. She tried to occupy herself with such questions, with her curiosity about her date and with the possibility that one day she might figure him out if only in part. Her mind would not be steered though from her daughter’s awkwardness around her father, and she couldn’t do anything but watch attentively as Sophia endured her duty.

“She’s fine,” Daryl insisted confidently. “If he puts a toe outta line, you know she’ll come runnin’. You ain’t gotta worry about her right now, worry about the half dozen men who are looking at you like a hunk of meat.” 

“Nobody’s lookin’ at me,” Carol hissed, embarrassed, looking around and realising that there were in fact a number of men watching her unabashedly. “Okay, fine, there are. They’re looking at the dress, not me.”

“You think there’s a man here who gives a shit ‘bout that dress? You look incredible, whether y’wanna admit it or not. Stop fretting and start flirting,” Daryl suggested with a smirk.

 _God,_ Carol thought, _he really does want shot of me._ It shouldn't have offended her so to hear him pass her over so easily but for some reason it did and she was brought tumbling back to reality with a heavy handed reminder that this was a favour. This was a favour and he'd never look at her twice in that way and she should count herself lucky he was so generous with his time. But never before had been instructed by a date – even a fake one – to flirt with other men. That set her straight, and she drew away from him just an inch to show she’d gotten the message. Loud and clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Maisie Peter's 'Adore You'.


	11. you're the feeling i get, when i'm feeling fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding continues and I am afraid, still no let-up from the angst. I'm almost wrapped up with the writing of this and honestly I don't want to let it go. When I post the final chapter, I might ask y'all to decide for me if I should continue it into something else because I'm really loving the process of writing this. Enjoy!

Carol barely ate a thing. She felt nauseous with impatience for the day’s end. If she could just stop fretting for a moment, she’d have a good time, but Ed’s mere presence set her on edge. She had no real interest in having a good time anyway. That wasn't what she had come here for and she could be entirely content with the fact that it'd been positively mind-numbing. At present, however, it was worse than mind-numbing. 

They were seated at a table with some of Ed’s new colleagues and with a couple of Paula’s cousins. Luckily, none of them seemed interested in making small talk and so they ate in a tempered silence, eager to be excused. Daryl snatched food off Carol’s plate once he was certain that she wasn’t going to continue picking at it, filling himself with food far too fancy for him to fully enjoy. Each time he made the first bashful snatch for a potato or a bite of chicken, Carol would nudge the plate towards him. 

Dessert arrived and it was a black forest tart that Carol couldn’t bring herself to turn down. She wolfed down her own serving before seeing Daryl turning his nose up at the sickly-sweet dish and stole a corner for herself. Daryl looked at her with an expression that she couldn’t pin and slid the plate towards her with a shy smile.

“You sure?” Carol asked, meeting his gaze and grinning when she saw his confident nod. “It’s just so delicious.”

Daryl was pleased to see true joy on her face for the first time all day. There’d been a glint of it when she first saw Sophia, and when he told her that she looked beautiful, and, most notably, when Ed almost tripped over on his way out of the chapel. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from her, watching her in a way that he worried might’ve made her self-conscious had she noticed him. Her eyes were locked on her plate though and it was like bearing witness to a love affair between a woman and her dessert. 

Neither of them paid much attention to the speeches, full of cliches and promises that Carol knew with certainty Ed would never keep. The best man seemed entirely out of his depth, conjuring up stories that he’d definitely been _told_ rather than witnessed first-hand and it made for a rather awkward performance detailing Ed’s greatest (though still pitiful) triumphs. Carol found herself glancing across at Sophia every few seconds, seeing her looking bored but not unhappy at the top table, and Daryl noticed just how worried she was for the girl and wished that he could put her mind at rest but it was beyond his limited powers. 

“Finally,” Daryl grunted quietly as Ed and his bride headed to the dancefloor for the first dance. Everyone huddled around the pair, focusing their attentions as the two embarked upon a clumsy waltz that reminded Carol just a little too much of her own wedding night. Her stomach turned and she suddenly feared that she might be reacquainted with her dessert, but Daryl set a hand on her shoulder gently and she was soothed.

Without hesitation, Daryl led Carol into the shadows at the room’s edge and let her stand there in silence until her breaths were steady. He didn’t ask her what was wrong – there were too many possible answers that he was too selfish to listen to – and instead, hovered loosely at her side. If it was up to him, he would've stolen her away without saying goodbye to anyone and they'd be on the beach by now, drinking a stolen bottle of champagne and commending themselves for enduring the ordeal for so long. Carol was too selfless for that though and she'd never put her own needs above her daughter's. 

Sophia headed in their direction as soon as she could escape the celebration, wearing her worry plainly as she approached them. Carol forced herself to smile broadly, shrugging off her daughter’s concerns and telling her to go and have fun. Insisting that she was fine was just about the only thing that she had the strength to do.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Daryl mumbled. “Back in a minute.”

He made a beeline for the bar, grabbing two glasses of champagne and shuddering as he took the first sip. He tried to ignore how the fizz burned his throat uncomfortably and hoped that he'd be able to get his hands on something else. Suddenly, too close for comfort, he felt someone at his side. Turning to his side and expecting Carol, he was startled to find Mrs Potato Head in her dumpy meringue gown. 

“How about a dance for the bride?”

There was no moment of hard-to-pin tension between the two of them. There was no invisible force in the narrow space between them. Perhaps he should've felt _something_ when he looked at her. Pity or resentment or even hatred, but instead he saw her without emotion. The day would end and he would never have to set eyes on her again and _that_ was all that mattered. 

“I ain’t the dancin’ kind,” Daryl stated. “Go dance with your husband. Can’t be sick of him yet, surely.”

Paula made a grab for his wrist as he turned away from her, testing his patience in a way he hadn’t expected. Daryl glared at her with a coldness that required conscious effort and he thought, just in passing, of what a shame it would be if someone spilled their drink on her pretty dress. It was malicious and he would never have done it, if only for fear of it reflecting poorly on Carol, but the image in his head was one which made him smirk. 

Carol had her gaze trailing on his every step. She furrowed her brow but didn’t comment when he returned, handing her a champagne flute. She decided that she didn’t _want_ to know if he wasn’t going to tell her, but the curiosity was making her restless. She needed to do something or she’d lose her mind completely. People were pooling in the middle of the room, commencing in an awkward rhythmic sway that made her crave the open sky. 

“You got any smokes?” Carol asked, hoping that he hadn’t finished the pack she saw in his pocket yesterday. “I need some air.”

Wordlessly, Daryl followed her outside and handed her a smoke, sparking his Zippo and lighting the cigarette once it was situated between her lips. He knew she didn’t smoke but he wasn’t going to comment if it would calm her nerves. He bit back a laugh as she choked on the first drag, lighting up a smoke of his own and looking at her with a hundred unspoken questions in his throat. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not resisting the urge for once. “I know you didn’t come here expecting to babysit a grown woman. You should go have a good time. Drag Sophia onto the dancefloor if you can, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Daryl grunted, and it sounded almost like an order. “I ain’t dancin’ with anyone but you tonight so don’t be tryna get rid o’ me. You just fill your lungs with some tar and you’ll feel better.”

Carol wished she had the strength to argue but his presence was reassuring. Under his watch, she felt like she could be a little fragile without fear of judgment. His kindness felt unfounded and she longed to make sense of it and of him. She’d spent almost half a decade trying to figure him out, but she’d always been kept at arms’ length and she’d never complained. Here, in the low light of the early evening, she felt like she was finally being afforded access to a part of him she'd never seen before. 

_I ain't dancin' with anyone but you._ She considered the words and wondered if she could take him at his word. There were few things that might make her feel better temporarily, but the thought of folding herself into his arms and letting him guide her around the floor for a while was among the possibilities. She hoped he'd be persuaded to dance with her later on, once she had softened his defences with a few drinks. 

For a while, Carol waited to feel ready and eventually, with a dramatic exhale, she knocked back her champagne and looked at Daryl expectantly. They had a free bar to make use of and she was painfully sober. Daryl, she noticed, was sipping at his champagne and wincing each time he was forced to swallow it. _Shots,_ she considered and wondered where her new enthusiasm had burst out from. The whole affair would continue to be underwhelming but if she could diminish the experience with alcohol, then it might prove bearable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Phoebe Bridger's 'Steamroller'.


	12. and your eyes were filled with tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally - a few minutes of softness between them, after all this build-up I felt like we needed a bit of a breather. But I am facing a crisis and I want you guys to make the decision for me - I will be finished with this story by tomorrow and I want to know whether you would prefer a staggered update schedule or you'd rather have it all at once? Let me know what you'd prefer in the reviews and majority rule will decide. Enjoy!

As expected, Ed was wasted by sunset. He was stumbling around and making jokes that nobody laughed at and heavy-handedly dragging his new wife along behind him. Paula seemed surprisingly okay with the scenario. She too was one more drink away from unconsciousness it seemed, which Carol supposed likely helped.

Paula chased after him like a lost puppy, smiling widely and apologising for Ed when she felt the need. Carol shuddered to think that she had been like that once, though admittedly she’d been much less happy about it. She'd never pretended that she wasn't embarrassed by her husband's antics, nor that she was in anyway enamoured with the way he behaved, but she had sought his approval long after she realised just how little it was worth. 

“Sure you need that?” Daryl asked as he watched her snatch up another glass of champagne, tone carefully balanced in its apathy. “Should dance before the music gets any worse.”

Carol set the glass down and extended a hand expectantly, biting back the smirk blooming across her face. Daryl was reluctant to take it. He hadn’t been lying when he said he wasn’t the dancing kind, but if it would improve her night then he’d make an exception. _Just one song_ , he told himself as they headed to the dance floor.

One song transitioned into another. He didn’t recognise either and didn’t care enough to complain. To him, all of them sounded like the same sort of John Hughes movie crap Merle would take the piss out of. He set his hands high on her waist where they couldn’t stray too far and let her step into his space without comment.

“Thank you,” Carol mumbled as she rested her chin on his shoulder, made taller by the heels she wore. Daryl didn’t ask what for and she wondered whether it was for a lack of wondering or if he already knew somehow that she couldn’t put into words what it was. It felt as if their entire relationship was a guessing game. Time spent decoding each other's words and gestures might have been put to better use if they weren't both so stubborn. 

The song was an old one. Carol remembered dancing with her homecoming date to it a lifetime ago. It made her smile to think of a time when she had been so naïve – there had been no Ed, no divorce, no teenage daughter to contend with. Everything had been so easy when she hadn’t to had to plan past tomorrow.

She lost herself in the smell of hotel aftershave and motor oil (that seemed never to wash off entirely) and thought she could be content here in Daryl’s arms. If she’d allowed herself to believe he didn’t hate dancing with a passion, she would’ve kept him on the floor all night, but she wasn’t selfish enough for that. The memory alone would be enough to keep her happy until they were home. 

Morrissey’s voice faded out as another song came in and neither of them moved. _It was a short song,_ Daryl convinced himself as he turned the pair around inelegantly. He focused his gaze forwards, ignoring the urge to bury his nose in her hair and breathe her in. All day he’d been fighting the urge to kiss her or to take her hand or wrap his arms around her. He’d resisted it and he had no intention of giving into temptation when they were so close to the finish line. 

Just as he thought he might buck up and take the leap, Sophia appeared in his line of sight and he withdrew his hands from Carol’s waist, letting her turn to see what had distracted him. Sophia had definitely had at least a couple glasses of champagne and the flush in her cheeks was a dead giveaway, but her mother would save her lecture for later. As long as the teen was having a good time, she would let it slide this once. 

“You having a good night, baby?” Carol asked, cupping her daughter’s chin and smiling. Noticing the way Daryl stepped back away from her the first chance he got and struggling to conceal her disappointment. “We might head up to bed soon. I’m a little tired.”

Sophia nodded in acceptance. It was clear that she too wanted to leave but there was no way that she could tap out quite so early without catching her father’s attention. Speak of the devil. He was headed in their direction with a bottle of beer in his hand and Carol steeled herself, prepared to take his insults without a reaction.

“Look at you,” Ed exclaimed in feigned surprise, leering at Carol. “Sophia, why don’t you go talk to Paula? She’s barely seen you all day.”

It took a stern look from her mother to prise Sophia away but she went silently and left her parents alone, throwing a final glance towards Daryl like a silent plea. Daryl lingered just a few steps behind Carol, looking Ed up and down critically and sneering at the way the man shrunk under his eye. 

“S’good to see you found someone to put up with your stupid ass,” Ed slurred, trying to puff his chest out and almost toppling over with the effort. “Still, guess I mighta stuck around if your ass had looked that good when you was mine.”

Carol felt Daryl step up behind her, she could feel the heat radiating off of him as he forced himself not to swing at Ed. Reaching for his forearm, Carol grounded him there and he remembered the promise he had made to himself that he wouldn’t cause trouble if he could help it. He'd made that promise with her in mind and he wouldn't betray it, not after such an uneventful day. 

“I think your bride’s probably lookin’ for you,” Carol suggested with a forced grin. “We’re gonna turn in for the night. Thanks for a lovely wedding and congratulations again.”

The song changed to something a little more upbeat and Ed turned around, ploughing through his guests to find his wife. Carol watched him go and wondered how on Earth she’d ever fallen for a man so boorish. Daryl was still pressed close at her back and his breaths were uneven with frustration, she turned to face him with a smile, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear.

“Let’s go before he gets anymore alcohol into his system,” Carol suggested, waving goodnight to a displeased Sophia before leading Daryl out of the function room and into the elevator. “Well, I’m glad that ordeal’s over.”

Daryl looked at her in dismay. He wondered if Ed’s words bounced off her so easily, or if worse, they seeped in to be taken as fact. There was something in her very gait that told him she would carry the words with her, and it made him want to return downstairs and beat Ed Peletier until he no longer had any recollection of what he had said. He wanted to pluck the very words out of Carol's memory and replace them with something infinitely kinder. He wanted to take every harsh word she'd ever heard about herself and burn it from her remembrance. 

“Thank you for stopping yourself,” Carol uttered into the quiet of the elevator as she watched the number go up with each new floor. “I’m flattered you think me worth defending, but it would’ve only caused a scene.”

“S’long as you know that was bullshit,” Daryl answered. The elevator dinged as they arrived on the fifth floor. Carol stepped out first and he followed behind her, doing his utmost to ignore the way the dress hugged her hips.

As soon as they were back in the room, she reached for her zipper, struggling for a second and for an agonising moment, Daryl feared she would ask him to help her with it. The thought of touching her was like setting a line of fresh snow on the dining table and expecting Merle not to snort it, and Daryl’s restraint was already spent.

He changed quickly, throwing his suit over the back of the armchair and waiting in the bed for Carol to emerge. She was fresh-faced now, looking more like the Carol he knew with her hair thrown back in a ponytail. That reminded him: there was still her hairtie on his wrist, but he supposed she wouldn’t miss it if she’d so easily conjured another. The t-shirt she wore skimmed her midthigh and he tensed his jaw to keep from dropping his gaze a second time. 

“Goodnight,” Carol breathed into the room as she flicked off the light and turned away from him. It wasn’t until he was absolutely certain that she was asleep that he indulged his need to touch her and skated his fingertips shyly over her cotton-covered shoulder, watching carefully to see if she woke. Eventually, he fell asleep, his hand still cupping her shoulder timidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Lord Huron's 'The Night We Met'. The first song they dance to is The Smiths 'Please, please, please, let me get what i want' and the second is Alec Francis' 'You Make My Dreams'.


	13. even if we lose touch, fall off the tracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, i'm dropping all the chapters as per the gc's request so no more chapter notes apart from chapter titles until the end!

Daryl woke early the next morning, snatching his hand back from her shoulder like he’d been burned and forcing himself out of bed. He was glad that the Dixon genes had saved him from the hangover, but still, his head hurt, and he wasn’t sure whether it was how much they’d had to drink or simply the stress of the prior night. He knew with certainty that Carol was going to feel a whole lot worse. 

He forced himself into the shower, leaning heavily against the tiled wall and letting the water cascade over him until he felt alive again. It was actually quite late, so late in fact that room service had already switched out the breakfast menu for the lunch, but he rang down and ordered two club sandwiches and two lattes so that Carol would at least have some carbs in her before they hit the road.

“Is that bacon?” Carol grumbled, turning her face into the pillow and stretching out until her bones cracked. “You are a man after my own heart.”

Her head felt as though it had been occupied by a marching band and with each movement, it seemed that the drummer mistook her right temple for his instrument. She tried to blink away the hangover, accepting the coffee gratefully and tipping it down her throat so quickly she almost choked. The thought of getting out of bed was one she dreaded but she could tell that Daryl was eager to head off. 

“We should get going kinda soon. We slept in,” Daryl confessed as he took a bite out of his sandwich, catching a stray shred of lettuce that fell into his lap.

Carol nodded before disappearing into the bathroom where for twenty minutes, he heard no signs of life. She emerged looking somewhat refreshed, dressed in the same outfit she had worn for the drive down, with her hair pulled back out of her face. She wolfed down the sandwich quicker than Daryl believed her capable of and sat curtly on the bed’s edge, making clear her readiness to leave. He was sat to say goodbye to the hotel room where for a brief moment in time, everything had felt so impossibly real. It was a double-edged sword to leave. 

It felt like something of a miracle that they saw nobody they knew in the lobby. Carol dropped their key on the front desk and made a dash for the car, she stood by the trunk with her suitcase, mulling over the prospect of driving them the best part of 500 miles home and hating herself for offering. She was about to head for the driver's side when he reached for her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. 

“I’m driving,” Daryl grunted, and she was forced to hide her relief and he rounded the car and took the driver’s side. “You’re still over the limit anyways, I reckon, and you can get some shuteye. God knows you need it more than I do.”

For the first hour, Carol forced her eyes shut and tried to sleep. She tossed and turned with all the motion that the car's seat allowed. Eventually, she gave up trying and settled her attention on the traffic. For once, she was content in the silence and felt no urge to fill it. Her mind was loud enough to keep her occupied. She had been drunk last night, but not so drunk that the memories were muddied. Minute by minute, she ran over every second and found herself wishing that she could slow it down and play it at half-speed behind her eyelids. 

Daryl glanced over at her and tried to find something to say, the lost look in her eyes had him worried. She had pulled through yesterday with such strength, forcing a brave face and managing – just for a brief while – to enjoy herself. Perhaps, he considered, it had hit her only now how much it had hurt to be there. He was glad to know there was no love lost between her and Ed; that had been confirmed for him by the coldness with which the brute was met, but she hadn't escaped unscathed by the encounter. 

“She seems so normal, don’t you think?” Carol breathed into the car’s silence. “Sure, she’s a little grating and I wouldn’t invite her over for dinner but she’s _nice._ She’s nice and she just married a man like that, and I can’t even bring myself to feel bad for her.”

Daryl pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and handed them to Carol wordlessly. She hadn’t known she needed one, but she was grateful once they were in her hand. Smoking made her sick most of the time, but when she was anxious, it was like the smoke filled her chest and pushed every suffocating feeling up and out of her body until she felt like she could breathe again. She lit the cigarette and rolled down the window, enjoying the breeze that forced its way into the car.

“Lots o’ _nice_ people do things they’ll regret later. Hell, _you_ married him once,” Daryl exclaimed as he took a cigarette out for himself. “’N for the record, she don’t seem that nice to me. Ain’t gonna pretend _anyone_ deserves that but as long as we’re comparing, she deserves it more’n you.”

It jarred Carol a little to hear that. Not because she thought it was an unkind thing to say, she wasn’t so _good_ as to be offended by it, but because she wondered if twenty years ago, Daryl wouldn’t have said the exact same thing about _her._ She couldn’t help but compare herself to Paula and with every similarity she recognised, she felt a little worse about herself. Was there so much about them that differed? She worried that, though she had done her best to recreate herself after the divorce, she was still the girl who'd fallen in love with Ed Peletier.

“I was just like her though,” Carol admitted aloud for the first time after months of thinking it. “I loved him, and I ignored his faults, and I would’ve stayed with him my entire life. It took my _daughter_ coming to me and telling me that _she_ wanted me to leave him. It took _that_ to wake me up to what my life was. And in a matter of hours, I went from _happily_ married to sleeping on Andrea’s couch and telling him I wanted a divorce.”

The expression that Daryl adopted was one he seldom wore. He was _sad_ in a way that he couldn’t remember being in years. His chest heaved with the overwhelming sensation and he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He focused his eyes on the road and tried to find something to say. Everything he thought seemed like it might come out wrong. He ran the risk of making things worse somehow. For what felt like eternity, Carol squirmed in her seat and fought the urge to speak.

“You didn’t get no warning,” Daryl said. “She’s been told what he is. She _knows_ what she’s signed up to. You didn’t. Nobody took care o’ you the way you tried to take care o’ her. Don’t go blaming yourself for what you couldn’t control.”

On the interstate with the windows down and a cigarette in her hand, she was the most peaceful she ever could be. It didn’t matter that a lump had taken permanent residence in her throat, nor that the ache in her head lingered. She could feel like slight bounce of tires against tarmac, the far-off hum of a dozen other vehicles in motion, the calm that came only from being at once perfectly still and racing at 80mph down the highway. It did something to her that she couldn't explain. Perhaps it was that childish urge to run away that she'd never fully abandoned. 

Hadn't she run away from everything in one way or another? She ran from her father right into Ed's arms and then when the time came to run again, she set off in the middle of the night like a thief. She couldn't blame herself for that, at least, when it was so unquestionably the right thing to do, but she wondered if it didn't say something about her character. 

For seven long hours, they made stray comments and listened to the radio for a short time, but the quiet was welcome. Daryl was surprised, though less so with each time, when he glanced over to see Carol serene and motionless, but entirely awake. Her eyes were locked on the horizon as they chased after it, watching the sun creep slowly to meet it as the sky bloomed into a soft orange.

Savannah welcomed them home with open arms. It appeared just as they had left it. Kids rode their bikes down the sidewalks with younger siblings toddling after them. Parents stood in doorways trying to summon their children inside with the promise of supper. Pensioners sat on their porches smoking cigars. It was unchanging, even in motion, and Daryl found himself mournful at once relieved and mournful to be back. 

The sight of the Harley still parked up outside her house made Carol’s heart swell. It felt, for a brief moment, like they were driving home together and none of it had been pretend at all. She knew she’d see him even less than usual after this, she _knew_ he’d keep his distance and she couldn’t find the words to ask him not to. After he'd already given her so much, there was nothing left for her to ask of him and yet she found herself desperate. 

As she bid him farewell and stepped inside, she found herself wishing for an excuse to summon him back. Some benign emergency she simply couldn’t face alone. _Anything_ to pull him back for just a few more minutes. It was only in the act of watching him drive off that she realised she never wanted to let him out of her sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Joseph's 'Room for You'.


	14. i missed you more than i thought i would

With Sophia back at home and back in school, things returned to normal. Carol tried to shrug off the urge to call Daryl and see if he’d join them for dinner on Wednesday, telling herself that he’d already done so much for her. She let Sophia complain freely about how difficult her father had been and how much she had longed to abandon him, and Carol found herself wondering if she shouldn’t have simply endured a tougher trial. 

When the time had come to settle and the lawyer had told her that Ed wasn’t budging on his visitation rights, she hadn’t had the energy to fight him. The mere thought of a trial made her head hurt. She wasn’t ready to be in the same room as him yet, she wasn’t ready to detail her trauma for a bunch of strangers she had never met, and she certainly wasn’t prepared to ask her eleven-year-old to do the same.

In exchange, he would send a fat cheque each month to maintain Sophia and at the time, Carol couldn’t turn it down. She’d been a housewife for twenty years. She had a high school education and a couple years’ experience working at Walgreens’, neither of which gave her a sparkling resumé, and so she gave in. It wasn’t until years later when Sophia began to openly hate her father that she wondered if she shouldn’t have fought harder. If Sophia hadn't been _worth_ a longer, harder fight even if it killed Carol. 

Ed was having the time of his life in the Bahamas, she was sure, and so long as he wasn’t anywhere near her, Carol could bring herself to be happy for him. It required a great deal of effort admittedly, but she could think kindly of him and his wife. Carol wondered if there was something inherently wrong with her that she had such a capacity for forgiveness, although she blamed her Baptist upbringing. Perhaps it was simply her low opinion of herself that fuelled it though, because in thinking of what he had intended for Sophia, all thoughts of forgiveness dried up. 

“So, how was it?” Jacqui asked as Carol fell into her office chair for the first time since her return from Pensacola.

She told Jacqui all about the wedding. Every detail of the food and Paula's dress and Sophia's atrocious taffeta ordeal and Daryl. She found herself talking about it with a smile she hadn’t expected. It truly hadn’t been half as bad as she’d imagined. She’d enjoyed herself in some distorted manner and it was only thanks to Daryl.

“So, it was worth it?” That was the _real_ question. Their attendance had been a means to an end and so long as it was finished and there would be no repeat of the night, it had been worthwhile. 

“For sure,” Carol answered. “Sophia hated every second, but I think she was relieved to have me there, even though she insisted that she would’ve been fine on her own. I don’t think I would’ve _chosen_ to go but all things considered, it could’ve gone much worse.”

Sophia hadn’t the same interest in maintaining the moral high ground and since she had gotten back from the wedding, she had made a point of complaining every time her father tried to call her or text her or, in any way, acknowledge her existence. Carol wouldn’t have objected if she simply stopped answering her father’s calls, but she knew she’d never admit to it aloud. Still, after three years at Greene's and after buying Ed out of the house, she found herself scared to be entirely independent of him. In some small way, it was nice to know they were in this arrangement of him paying what she liked to consider reparations for the time she'd endured as his wife. 

“Mom,” Sophia began as soon as she was off the phone and already, Carol knew something was wrong. “Dad and Paula are flying back through Savannah and they wanna go to dinner while they’re in the city…with you as well.”

“That’s fine. We’ll book a table at Fitzroy and make your father foot the bill, how about that?” Carol suggested, brightening herself to ease her Sophia’s concern though there was dread burrowed in the pit of her stomach.

She had faced worse. She’d been married to the man for two decades. One dinner was not going to kill her. Fleetingly, she thought of Daryl at her back trying to defend her honour and wished she had the nerve to ask him yet another favour. Sophia had the same thought, of course, though she said nothing of it to her mother. Thinking better of keeping her ideas to herself. She knew her mother would never agree to the idea if it was presented the wrong way. 

After dinner, and after her mother locked herself in the bathroom for a long bubble bath and likely a brief crying session, Sophia grabbed her mother’s address book. For the first time in her life, she was thrilled her mother still fell back upon such archaic principles and she flipped through to find Daryl’s name, dialling his number and waiting for him to pick up. A little bit of scheming, so long as it was well-intended, wouldn't send her to Hell. 

“Daryl?” She began eagerly. “It’s Sophia Peletier!”

“Y’alright? Everythin’ okay wit’ you and your Mom?” Daryl questioned and Sophia couldn’t help but smile at the way he worried for the both of them. He was just about the only man who’s concern she could bear, and frankly the only man she could tolerate at all. 

He'd been kind to her once. He'd told her that she was just as tough as any of the boys her age and that if she thought they deserved a punch to the gut, she was well within her rights to give it to them. The conversation had never been relaid to Carol, and Sophia was glad now to have a bargaining chip, though she doubted she would need it. 

“Everythin’s fine. Need to ask you a favour,” Sophia began with absolute confidence that he would agree. “Mom won’t ask because you already did her such a huge favour with the weddin’, but my father’s coming through Savannah next weekend and he’s dragging us out for dinner. I know Mom’d feel an awful lot better if you came along too.”

There wasn’t a beat of hesitation. He asked when and where. He told her that if she didn’t tell her mother by the weekend, he’d call and tell Carol himself all about her conniving plan. Sophia figured there were worst punishments for her innovation, and her mother was hardly going to say _no,_ even if she was a little annoyed with Sophia for all of five minutes.

Sophia didn’t tell her Mom that night, nor the next night. She waited until all the familiar signs of contentment presented themselves and took the risk when they were driving home from school on Thursday afternoon. Logically speaking, Carol was not going to act anywhere near as poorly while Sophia was behind the wheel of a car. Sophia leant heavily on that logic as she confessed her sin. 

Carol looked at her like she had just confessed that she was pregnant, or that she was doing drugs, or that she was guilty of some terrible and heinous crime. Yet, she didn’t speak. Not a word. Not once they were parked on the driveway. Not once they were inside the house. Not until she had poured herself a glass of water and drunk it. Sophia was a little frightened in truth by her mother's silence, moreso than if she had yelled. 

“I really don’t appreciate you going behind my back, Sophia,” Carol said in a frighteningly calm tone. “I hope I didn’t raise you to think that scheming and sneaking around was acceptable.” 

It was true. The moment she had done it, Sophia had known her mother would be displeased. In truth, she had known even before and she had reasoned that sometimes forgiveness was easier to claim than permission. She would offer her an apology and she would vow never to do it again and all would be well. The real question, and frankly the more important question was this: would she let Daryl come anyway?

Carol didn’t really have much of a choice. Turning up alone just ten days after parading Daryl around like a prize ewe would be a greater embarrassment than having gone alone in the first place. She would apologise to him profusely, and she would make sure he knew that she owed him. Big time. Adding it to the long list of things that she already owed him for, it barely seemed to matter in the grand scheme of her indenture to him. 

Infuriated though she was, Carol had to fight back a grin at the thought of seeing Daryl again when she had been so worried that it’d be months before they crossed paths. Without a reason, it'd been expected that they would return to birthday parties and Thanksgivings and not much else. Sophia gave a grovelling apology and retreated to her room, leaving Carol to prepare dinner and to face the music with Daryl.

“Daryl!” she greeted as soon as he picked up the phone, failing to mask her joy. “Sophia’s just told me about her cunning plan. I know she probably cornered you into it but, if you really _are_ free, it’d help me out of a bind. I feel bad asking for yet another favour so soon but I can offer a Fitzroy ribeye for your trouble.”

“One day, you’re gon’ trust me when I tell you somethin’ ain’t no hassle,” Daryl offered with a chuckle. “I’ll be there. You’re gon’ have to tell me what to wear though, I ain’t the type t’ eat at the Fitzroy.”

All week, Carol found herself occupied with thoughts of Daryl in a suit. He'd looked so handsome at the wedding and she'd had to stop herself from commenting. Waking up in bed to the sight of him looking so magnificent had almost convinced her that she hadn't woken at all. She styled him like a Ken doll. The grey one this time with his light-wash jeans and, well he’d have to borrow some shoes from Merle but that’d be no trouble. In every blank second, there was the idea of him pulling up outside the house on his Harley and she found herself, once again, eager more than reluctant for the dreaded event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Amber Run's 'I Found'.


	15. please let me take you home tonight

Daryl pulled up ten minutes early wearing the suit jacket and jeans that Carol had told him to. The Harley would, sadly, have to remain here for the evening and they would take the car. It broke Daryl’s heart a little to think of the missed opportunity to frighten Ed with their sudden arrival, but all coming together would allow them to present a united front. Never mind the fact that Carol was going to need a fair few drinks to get her through the evening without losing her mind. He was happy to accept the role of designated driver. In some long-winded way, he told himself that she was trusting him, again, to take care of her. 

“I could drive us home,” Sophia offered sweetly as she slipped into the back seat. “It’d be an awful shame for you _not_ to drink when you’re not the one payin’, Daryl.”

Carol scoffed at Sophia. Tonight’s mission had somehow become an effort to bleed her father dry. She’d already checked the menu for the most expensive items and intended to order them all in turn. The plan was not something that Carol overtly approved of, though while she had been waiting for Sophia to free up the bathroom, she had made sure to find out which wine was the priciest. If they hadn't earned the right to spend Ed's money, then who had? 

At the restaurant, Ed was already in a heated discussion with the host when they arrived. Carol crossed past her husband without acknowledging his existence and calmed the situation, accepting direction to their table. It was going to be a _long_ evening and she already wanted nothing more than to go home, but she had promised Daryl a ribeye. Nothing could stop her from giving him everything that he'd ever asked of her, everything he'd ever wanted, but she feared that she wasn't equipped to offer much at all. 

Once Ed was situated with a glass of whiskey, he calmed visibly. Paula tried to make small talk with Sophia about how amazing the honeymoon had been, and Sophia did her utmost to feign interest. Daryl and Carol maintained a hushed conversation throughout, seldom letting themselves be pulled away for even a moment to speak to one Peletier or another. Things ran smoothly all the way through until dessert.

The wine had softened the edges of Carol’s vision, and she felt undeniably mellow as they each, in turn, ordered dessert. Paula was looking at her watch nervously, and Carol couldn’t mistake the way she was keeping count of Ed’s drinks for anything lighter. Was it the money or the drive back to Pensacola that concerned her, though?

“Baby, why don’t we get a hotel tonight?” Paula suggested, batting her eyelashes in a way that Carol knew from experience wouldn’t get her very far. “We could get some rest and set out first thing. You know I don’t like driving in the dark.”

Daryl was the only one who caught in full Ed’s grumbling response about wasting money. The women, however, got the gist of whatever it was that he had said. Paula drew back in her seat, sipping the same glass of wine that she’d been nursing since they arrived. It made Carol wince to see Paula so quickly realising the truth of a marriage to Ed and she wondered if theirs wouldn't be a short-lived romance. 

“You don’t mind us staying in the spare room, do you?” Ed asked in a tone that made Carol shudder, but she was too stubborn to let him get under her skin. “Paula’s right, driving at night probably ain’t the smartest idea, and you’ve still got my office, ‘aven’t you?”

Poor timing from the waiter. The poor teenager arrived with five plates balanced precariously and seemed to cut right through the tension with his friendly demeanour. Daryl gripped his fork until his knuckles paled, concentrating all his energy on maintaining self-control. The way Ed had referred to the guest room as _his_ office, even after four long years, had not gone unnoticed. Daryl might have to stake out the house, park up across the street just so he was nearby should something happen. 

“Sure thing!” Carol exclaimed with a forced grin as the waiter disappeared, and she wished immediately that she’d said no. “Daryl, are you comin’ home with us tonight? I know you’ve got work tomorrow.”

Daryl looked at her as though he was searching for the answer that she wanted in her eyes, and after a few seconds, he was certain that he’d found it there. _I’ll come home with you,_ he told her and if he had judged wrong then he was glad to have. The thought of letting Ed under their roof made his skin crawl and he wasn’t going to leave her to face it alone. If he had to sleep on her bedroom floor then so be it, that was better than waiting up all night for the phone to ring like a harbinger of terrible news.

Dinner ended abruptly. Nobody wanted to sit and pretend to make small talk anymore when it was so glaringly true that the table was divided in their loyalties. For the first time, perhaps in his entire life, Ed was outnumbered. He paid without making a fuss and Carol barely recognised him as the man she’d been so frightened of. Paula had softened him somehow and she wondered what the woman's secret was, wondered if there wasn't a trick that could've saved her so much pain. 

“We’ll see you in ten then,” Paula offered with a smile as she led Ed to their rental car. There was a very screwed up and singular part in all three of them that hoped, in some tragic turn of events, that Paula and Ed might never make it to the house. Ed was already batting Paula off of him and insisting he could drive, and if he ended up in the ER instead of in the spare bedroom then wouldn’t it serve him right? Wouldn't they both have brought it upon themselves - he, by being him, and she, by marrying him even in possession of all the facts?

Sophia slipped into the back seat and stared out of the window, unwilling to conceal her frustration at her mother’s decision.

“Baby, when we get home, I want you to go up and get ready for bed and before you go to sleep, I want you to lock your door, okay?” Carol commanded as she threw a glance back in her daughter’s direction, shocked to come up against no resistance at all. “It’s just one night. They’ll be gone before you even wake up.”

Daryl wished he had her level headedness. Nothing seemed easy right now. The prospect of what they were returning back to was enough to colour his vision red. It was an act and he could see right through it as she let her shoulders slump and fell back into her seat, trying to garner a moment’s peace. He wished he had been bolder. There's was a performance to protect her and so why had he not fulfilled his role. Ed wouldn't have got far in trying to overrule Daryl's decision making had he insisted that Ed was unwelcome. 

Shyly, without really knowing what he was doing, Daryl reached across and set his hand on top of Carol's. Letting her turn hers over to lace their fingers together, he wondered if they couldn’t keep driving until the tank was empty. Sophia would fall asleep in the back and Carol would doze off right beside him if he just kept driving, and he’d keep a hold of her hand and he’d let her dream of a life so much easier than this. 

The temptation was overwhelming but as they came up on the cul-de-sac, he found himself turning in by reflex. They parked up on the driveway and Carol stayed sitting for a moment, not releasing his hand until in the rear-view mirror, Ed could be seen, swerving chaotically as he pulled up outside of the house. She drew her hand out from his mournfully and he could see it in her eyes that she wanted nothing more than to sit with him until the sun came up. 

“Go on upstairs, Soph’,” Daryl instructed as the teenager let herself into the house first and hurried upstairs, calling out goodnight as she went. “I’ll make some tea.”

Tea made his chest burn. It was something about all of the herbs mixed up together that he couldn’t get used to, but he had learned on the drive back from Florida that it was the only thing that could save Carol from a hangover. And it calmed nerves too, that was the point of it or that’s what he thought he remembered Andrea saying to him once. Seemed like tea was the perfect refreshment for a night like this. 

Carol hung her jacket on the bannister and headed into the kitchen to help him, wearing a sleepy smile as he squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. Paula could be heard struggling to get Ed out of his coat in the living room and Carol found herself, once again, feeling pity for the woman. For a little while, she indulged in the harmful allusion that all of this was real and that she was watching another woman try to make a meal of her leftovers while she was blessed with the best Georgia had to offer. 

Four mugs set down on the coffee table in the living room, each steaming like tiny chimneys. Everyone took cautious sips, quiet for a moment until Ed cleared his throat loudly. Daryl glared at him and Paula turned in his direction as though asking an unspoken question, but Carol took only a moment to react. Such a long marriage meant that she still knew him inside out, and she was so accustomed to trying to please him that she couldn't stop herself from answering his silent request. 

“We don’t have anything ‘cept wine in the house,” Carol said in a placid, unapologetic tone.

Daryl wasn’t sure who was prouder. Him, or she of herself. It was refreshing to see her shrug him off so easily. This Carol, whoever she was, proved a stranger entirely to the woman who had thought herself unworthy of a pretty green dress. Something emboldened her. Anyone with eyes would admit it was Daryl's presence but she would never acknowledge such a correlation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Jaymes Young's 'Don't You Know'.


	16. i don't understand why you don't understand me

Paula was quick to excuse herself and remind her husband that they should get an early night if they wanted to get ahead of the traffic come morning. Carol wondered what gave her the nerve to boss him around so confidently, she wondered if, had she possessed such a trait, their marriage might have been different.

“I’s thinkin’ I should sleep on the floor,” Daryl offered as he watched Carol rinse out the mugs one by one. “Ain’t worth riskin’ me sleepin’ on the couch. What if one of ‘em wakes up ‘fore we do? How we gon’ explain that away?”

“We already shared a bed in Pensacola, Daryl,” Carol said, looking at him like she thought he’d forgotten. “You ain’t sleepin’ on the floor like a dog.”

Daryl shied away from it, nodding his acceptance and starting to bite his nail simply for something to do. _This was_ her _bed_ , he had told himself and that was a different thing entirely from a hotel room. He was invading her space and he couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. She had yet to comment on his decision to spend the night and he worried that he’d chosen wrong. The way she smiled at him though, with such an ease and no hint of the anxiety that he knew bubbled beneath the surface, calmed his nerves. 

The house seemed quieter than usual. It was _always_ close to silent but the knowledge that so many were under her roof when she was so often alone changed it somehow. The quiet felt louder when there it was the product of not just hers, but four other silent presences. Sophia would be asleep by now, Carol hoped, and she imagined Ed would’ve passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Daryl followed her in silence up the stairs, and she wished that he would speak.

It wasn’t that the quiet itself made her uncomfortable, she had long grown used to his wordlessness, but Daryl had two vastly differing sorts of silence. There was the easy kind at the dinner table or in the car or while he was smoking a cigarette and there was simply nothing to say. But tonight was flooded with the sort that made her fidgety, the sort where he was thinking so loudly that she had to resist the urge to demand he speak his mind. It made her wish that she could see inside of his head if only to make sense of the invisible workings. 

She disappeared into the bathroom to change into the most modest pyjamas she could find in her drawer and to brush her teeth. When she returned, Daryl sat awkwardly on the edge of her bed, no longer wearing his jeans but still dressed in his navy button-down. The timid nature that he clung to like a safety blanket flattered her a little, like she was bearing witness to something private. 

“You’re not gonna sleep in that, are you?” Carol teased, pulling back the duvet.

“Ain’t got nothin’ else with me,” Daryl admitted in an alarmingly serious tone. “Didn’t know I was gon’ be staying the night.”

It was true. He hadn't known. He hadn't signed up for this. At the bottom of a long list things that she owed him for was _this._ Another unspoken favour that he had offered without consideration, simply because she needed him. He wished he had been prepared for this so he might have been able to support her without the promised awkwardness. 

“Well couldn’t you just-” Carol began softly before stopping herself, realising with horror how wilted his posture was. “Oh God, Daryl, I’m so sorry. I can go sleep in Sophia’s room. If Ed asks, we can just say she had a nightmare or somethin’.”

A part of her had taken for granted that he was, at least physically, comfortable in her presence. She worried suddenly that he’d spent those nights in Pensacola clinging desperately to the bed’s edge and fighting off sleep for fear of something that hadn’t even crossed her mind. All of the apologies that Carol had fought off, all of the guilt that she’d tried desperately to write off as unfounded, was at once pressing against her chest wall and she thought she might faint.

“Easy,” Daryl soothed, suddenly right in front of her with his palms resting on her cheeks and his gaze boring into her. “Don’t know what’s goin’ on in your head, but it ain’t that. I got scars, tha’s all. Ain’t no dark secret, just an eyesore. Breathe fo’ me.”

Carol reclaimed control of her lungs as soon as she heard the words, as soon as she felt the reassurance in his touch, and she could feel her chest filling and emptying with each gasping breath. He was so close to her face that she could smell him. Vanilla and cedarwood and fresh laundry and the inescapable hint of tobacco that clung to every smoker’s clothes. If she hadn't been busy trying to remember how to work her respiratory system, she might've smiled.

Once her breaths were even and she was steady on her feet, Daryl dropped his hands to her forearms and stepped back just an inch. With a look up through his bangs, he asked her silently if she was alright.

“I don’t know what that was. I haven’t felt like that since- not in a long time- I’m fine now. I’m fine,” she breathed out and collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh, keeping her eyes locked on him. “I have them too, you know, more scars than you’d ever bother counting.”

If he were someone else, she might have tried to tell him they weren’t ugly. If they were different people, she might have peeled off her t-shirt and shown him how her back was littered with lines so thin they looked like cat scratches. If she thought it would do any good, she would tell him that scars were only a testament to the hardships endured and survived. But that was not who they were, and as he shucked off his shirt awkwardly and struggled to keep his back facing away from her, Carol courteously turned her gaze aside and accepted that some things simply couldn't be made better.

Once they both were in bed, Carol switched off the light and smiled into the darkness. She felt Daryl shift onto his side, facing towards her she suspected, as she stared up at the ceiling. The streetlights seeped under the curtains and if she squinted, Carol could see just beyond her nose. In the dark, everything seemed a little louder. She could hear a dog barking in one of the neighbour’s houses – probably Tara’s new puppy – and traffic on the freeway and somewhere much closer, a steady but incessant banging.

Embarrassment flushed her cheeks in the very second that she realised what it was. An absurd urge rolled over her that made her want to burst out laughing, and in tandem with it, she fought against the need to cry. Comparing her own life to Ed’s had never been something she indulged, but in that moment, she let herself and she worried that she’d never get a taste of real happiness again. Everything she'd known was tainted somehow by him, and if it wasn't, it was make believe. 

She felt the hitch in her breath, but she hadn’t thought it was audible until Daryl shyly reached across to her and stroked his fingers through her hair. Carol hadn’t expected it and had jolted involuntarily at the touch, but she softened as Daryl let a curl twist itself around his forefinger. In the lowlight, she couldn’t see his face, only his palm in her periphery.

“He ain’t nothin’ special,” Daryl whispered so gently that she thought she had imagined it, turning her face into his touch. “You _know_ you’re worth better. If you didn’t, it’d still be you in there with him. Tomorrow, he’ll leave, and you can have your life back the way it was before, and if he shows up around here again, I don’t think I’ll bother resisting the urge to make meatloaf outta his face.”

Carol doesn’t say what she’s thinking. She fears how Daryl would react if he heard it. But the question persisted: if someone else could be _so_ happy with him, then might it not be true that she was, after all these years, the problem? It dawned on her that she was supposed to laugh, or to chastise him, or to react somehow and suddenly, she felt his concern set upon her. She wanted to lie to lighten the mood somehow, but that wasn't them. For two people who's entire relationship was built upon a foundation of deception, they were dreadful at lying to one another. 

“It feels like I’ll never get out from under his shadow sometimes,” Carol confessed.

There were no words that he could offer her. Nothing could change her mind in that moment. So, his fingers stroking her hair gently and his unwavering presence at her side is all he provides. Rhythmically, he passes his hand over her curls.Daryl repeated the gesture long after her breathing had eased, long after the banging had ceased, long after he was sure she was asleep. He didn’t remember falling asleep. Fatigue had crept up on him. But even as he slept, his fingers remained knotted in her hair, holding onto her as though in subconsciousness, he was afraid she might be gone by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is HAIM's 'The Steps'.


	17. don't change a single little thing for me

For the first time in their brief history as bunkmates, Carol woke before him. His hand was still wrapped up in her hair, set beside her shoulder, and she was careful in extracting herself from his touch. Gently, she pulled her hair out from between his fingers and stood at the bed's edge trying to untangle the mess that he had created. 

Tension resided in his frame by nature. Never in all her years of knowing him had she seen him so at ease. Even drunk, he still flinched when someone entered his space too quickly. Even hungover, he was as skittish as a deer. His whole face shifted once his brow relaxed and his lips were no longer pursed. It was better somehow than the glimpses of smiles that she'd been rewarded with. This was so much rarer. There was no act of performance in the moment and it warmed her heart.

Carol worried he would wake and find her staring at him, and so she forced herself to get ready. Out of her wardrobe, she pulled a sweater and a pair of slacks. She was working the evening shift and the prospect of wearing jeans for quite that long was unappealing to say the least. She figured there was point trying to impress him on aesthetic grounds after last night's debacle. If she wanted to win Daryl over, she was going to have to resort to wilier methods. 

Quiet as she could, she slipped out and headed for the bathroom. A brisk five-minute shower to wake her up. Moisturiser and mouthwash turned her into a new woman and by the time that she unlocked the door to see Ed waiting right outside, she was almost unchallenged by his presence. _Almost._

“Mornin’” Ed drawled, still reeking of last night’s whiskey. “We’ll be off soon as I’ve had a coffee.”

Awkwardly, Carol squeezed past him and made a mental note to buy new toothbrushes for her and Sophia. As she slipped back into the bedroom, she saw Daryl buttoning up his shirt again and smiled warmly at the sight. If it wasn’t for the ghastly apparition of her ex-husband first thing in the morning, she might’ve let herself believe for a minute or two than this had all happened naturally. She wanted nothing more than an excuse to crawl back into bed with him and stroke the crease out from between his brows.

“Hey,” Daryl grunted as he stood, rolling his shoulder like it ached. All at once Carol cringed. She cringed at the fact that he would never accept her help, and moreso at the fact that she had thought so instantly to offer it. The thought of how he’d hurt himself trying to take care of her, and the fact that he’d never allow her to do the same. It felt like a cruel reminder that none of this was actually happening, and that he'd leave in an hour or two and likely never return. 

She offered nothing but a smile as she dropped her pyjamas to the foot of the bed and drew open the curtains. It was early, she could tell though she had yet to look at the time, and the streets were bare. There was something soothing about the knowledge that so many in the neighbourhood were still sleeping, and that hers was a singular waking presence. Dale would be getting up for work right about now, Carol guessed, and if it weren't for early morning hubbub of her own house, she would've imagined that was it in terms of company. 

“Coffee?” Carol suggested, unable to conjure anything more meaningful as she headed downstairs, trying to overlook the way he followed just behind her with each step and settled himself against the kitchen counter, watching her thoughtfully as she filled the kettle. She wished that he was worse at this. If he were _too_ attentive or _less_ attentive, then it might be easier to let go of her hold on him but he just seemed to get better at his role with each simple act. 

Paula emerged first. Ed wasn’t far behind. After an awkward cup of filter coffee, the pair left without a word of thanks. Carol hadn’t expected any better. She drank her coffee in peace and hoped that it was the last that she would see of Mr and Mrs Ed Peletier. Perhaps Paula would give him a son and he would leave Sophia alone. If he were a better father, such a thought might've broken her heart, but Sophia had grown tired of her father long before he did of her. 

“Should prob’ly get goin’ too,” Daryl announced dryly. “I gotta head up to the Guyton property. Jackass wants a summer house, the hell’s a summer house anyway?”

Again, Carol found herself relieved to hear a real excuse. She knew he wanted to go. She’d known from the moment he saved her at the restaurant by offering to stay that he was itching to leave. It was the sort of thing a person couldn't easily overlook. She’d known and she had let him stay anyway, and she needed five minutes alone to push down the guilt.

“Of course,” she answered and suddenly she was speaking without thinking again. “Why don’t you come over for dinner on Wednesday? You know we’d love to have you.”

“What, you got another weddin’ comin’ up you ain’t told me about?” Daryl joked. There was no time for the hurt to hit her before she was laughing. It was likely a mix of the sudden caffeine rush and last night’s stress that made it all the funnier. She laughed like she hadn’t in weeks, not since Ed's invitation had arrived. What harm was there in a last ditch effort to keep a hold of him. “See you Wednesday. Tell Sophia I said g’bye.”

He was gone before she could compose herself to respond. She heard the door click shut behind him and found herself saddened by his absence. It was silly to think that she’d let herself grow used to him in such a short amount of time. Until Wednesday, she would busy herself with other things and try to remember what she had done with herself before she had asked an enormous favour of the sweet neighbourhood hillbilly. Before him, she had been a woman with friends and a life and stuff, however menial, to fill her days. 

Sophia descended eventually, reluctant as she crept down from the top step, peeking carefully into the living room in search of her mother. Once she was certain her father had left, Sophia was her normal self again. A cheeky ask about how her Mom slept gave her far more information than she’d expected. The way Carol bit the inside of her cheek was the same tell that had lost her every game of poker she had ever played, but the stakes were higher here. Sophia had been rooting for this unlikely pair since the offset and maybe they were finally getting somewhere. 

“Daryl’s gonna come over for dinner on Wednesday,” Carol told Sophia as she cooked eggs and bacon. “Won’t that be nice!”

“Oh damn, this Wednesday?” Sophia asked, turning her face into the cupboard in search of tabasco sauce. She was not a good liar and she supposed it was a product of good parenting, but she had to hide her face entirely to avoid detection. “I’m going to Krystal for Carl’s girlfriend’s birthday, remember? I told you last week.”

Carol was almost certain that Sophia had told her no such thing, but her head had been all over the place and she wasn’t about to start an unnecessary argument. Just the two of them for dinner. That’d be fine. They’d eaten alone together before. They’d spent plenty of time in each other’s company.

She figured that she would grill some halibut. That'd do nicely. She'd busy herself with the preparations and maybe the next four days wouldn't go too slowly. If she'd known impatience before, it was nothing in comparison to this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Rex Orange County's 'Loving is Easy'.


	18. did you plan to fall?

Carol wasn’t sure why she had decided to wear a dress this evening. Somewhere tucked away where she didn’t have to think about it, she knew with certainty, but she wouldn’t admit it. Not even to herself. Perhaps, she considered, she just wanted to feel pretty for once and that was easier to do in the presence of a man. Being pretty with other women was a matter of comparison, but nobody was in the business of calling Daryl Dixon pretty. If they attempted such a thing, they would've been met with a severe lack of enthusiasm. 

Daryl had called to apologise that he would be just a little late. He was out at the Guyton estate and there was a lot to be done before they could call it a day, but he offered her an assurance that he’d be there by 7o’clock, and that they could start without him if he was any later than that.

It wasn’t an intentional decision: neglecting to tell him that Sophia had other plans and wouldn’t be joining them. She worried though, that it would scare him off, after the rather intense undercurrent of Saturday evening. If he'd asked her outright, she wouldn't have been able to lie to him but the simple omission felt barely a lie at all when there were so many little deceptions between them, almost exclusively hers. 

As she pulled the potatoes out of the oven, she heard the doorbell. The oven door hung open as she rushed for the door, pulling off the thick glove and adjusting her loose curls. _It wasn't_ _for him,_ Carol told herself though she supposed that it wasn't for anyone else either. 

Daryl had changed his clothes. It might not have been so obvious if he hadn’t called her only hours ago to complain about the inability of his colleagues to plaster a wall. He was far from sparkling clean but there were none of the tell-tale cream streaks that typically coated his clothes. Carol invited him in with a smile, rushing back to the kitchen to save the potatoes from their impending doom and drew them out onto the countertop. They smelled divine and she was glad to be able to offer him _something_ , even if it was just a hearty, home-cooked meal.

He wasn’t late, she realised, as she glanced at her phone for the time. He was, in fact, five minutes early. Just as he did every time he came over, he wandered awkwardly around the dining room and waited to be told to sit down. Still, in her home, he couldn't make himself at home despite her instruction for fear that he would never be able to stop once he started. Hanging on one of the walls was, he realised, a new photograph from the wedding.

It was a picture of Sophia dancing. She was just swaying to a song that she’d likely never heard before and the photographer had captured the moment. On her lips, she wore the faintest hint of a smile and Daryl found himself hoping that she had been found happiness, or at least contentment, in the moment that the photo captured. It had aggrieved him to know that, even moreso than Carol, she was there against her will and all day she had been longing plainly for an excuse to leave. 

“You make a cameo in that one,” Carol said as she carried plates one by one into the dining room and set them down on the table. He started scanning the picture like it was a game of _Where’s Waldo?_ until he felt Carol suddenly right next to him, reaching up to point into the top right corner where he could be seen looking at Carol with an affection that he wouldn’t have the nerve to deny had she mentioned it. He'd believed himself more guarded than that, but apparently he was an open book for anyone who wanted to take a glance in his direction and see a love-struck fool. 

Once again, she disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a dish that she set down in the middle of the table. It seemed an awful lot of effort just for the two of them, Carol realised in hindsight, but it would make leftovers for a day or two. If she wasn't allowed to do nice things for her friends then what was the point in working so many hours. 

_Some feast,_ Daryl thought as he took the seat which had become his by default. Grilled halibut and roasted potatoes and, though they seemed entirely out of place, collard greens. Carol didn’t think they were the best suited side but the way he piled them up onto his plate each time she cooked told her that they were his favourite. If they were unsuited here then it did her no harm, were she and Daryl not an unlikely pairing too?

“Dig in!” Carol exclaimed as she reached for the coke and filled first her own glass, then his. “Sophia had plans with friends and apparently that trumps dinner with me and you. Can’t imagine what they have to offer that we don’t.”

Daryl scoffed at her. Slowly, with each time she made a joke, he eased in his reaction. A month ago, he would’ve turned pink with embarrassment and tried his darndest to pretend he’d misheard. The last month had been a long one though, and Carol could barely recall what life had been like back then. Before the wedding, she felt like she’d been a different person entirely and she'd looked at Daryl seen a stranger where now she saw a man she feared would become that again. 

He gorged himself on the food, half-starved after a long day of work, and Carol let him. She might’ve tried to force a conversation once but theirs was a quiet that she didn’t feel the need to fill, there was something less empty about it. She ate until she was full by which point, Daryl was fit to burst.

“S’pretty good,” Daryl grumbled as he washed it down. “Thanks.”

Carol made no effort to move. The dishes could wait a little while, and she was content to just sit. There was ice cream in the freezer that she would dole out once the thought of standing up was less appalling to her, but for a long while, she just waited for her food to settle in her stomach quietly. Being in his presence felt like the easiest thing in the world sometimes and she wondered if there was any state in which she was calmer. It didn't matter that her heart raced when she met his gaze unexpectedly, nor that her mind was busied with imagined possibilities that would never come to pass, everything was easier with him there. 

Eventually, she forced herself up and cleared the table. Returning with two small bowls of ice cream, she doubted that she could bring herself to take a single bite. Daryl slowly ate his share with a reluctance that made clear he was eating out of courtesy rather than desire. Carol wished that she had just stayed still and hadn't forced the poor man to stuff himself past the point of bursting out of a need to be polite. 

“You lookin’ forward to Merle’s birthday? It’s next week, right?” Carol asked as she whipped the dessert into a mousse idly.

“Yeah, it’s next Thursday. You’re comin’ too, right?” The way Daryl’s pitch shifted just a touch was another sign she chose, gracefully, to overlook. “Was thinking I could drive you, Andrea’s gon’ get you drunk whether you like it or not and I’ve got early starts every day next week so I ain’t drinkin’ anyway. It’d make more sense s’all I’m saying.”

Carol bit back a smile. She _never_ got drunk at Andrea’s parties. She was always home before the party even really started so that she could make sure Sophia was in bed on time. _Once,_ she had let Andrea convince her to do Jello shots and she had hunkered down on the couch until she was sober enough to drive home. Daryl, however, more often than not could be found chain-smoking on the porch and trying to sober himself. This definitely had nothing to do with convenience but she wasn't going to ask unnecessary questions when it was just another opportunity to see him. 

“That’d be great,” she answered, wondering what possessed him to be so caring. Carol was glad of it in a way she’d tried to resist. It was the sort of thing that, had she told her therapist, would be deemed unworthy of appreciation. After two decades of Ed, even the smallest kindnesses were worthy of her appreciation but Michonne had been trying to make her believe that she was deserving of small kindnesses. Moreso, she was trying to convince Carol that people’s kind actions were not always driven by ulterior motive. It was hard for Carol to wrap her head around in truth but she'd been trying and now, she didn't find herself struck with anxiety every time someone offered her help.

They sat at the dinner table for a long time, enjoying the quiet that filled the gaps between their words. Daryl made no excuse to leave and Carol stayed in perfect stillness like a wrong move might cause him to bolt. When Sophia got home to find the pair of them still sat there, she slipped carefully up the stairs and did not interrupt their peace. It was hard to believe that they'd been sat there for the best part of four hours when she slipped in, hoping her mother might be too distracted to notice her sneaking in so close to curfew. 

It was dark when Daryl realised just how long he’d been sat there, waiting for her to give him some excuse to leave. He made no elaborate story tonight as he had so many times before, just said that it was late and he should go and she made no argument. “See ya Thursday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is dodie's 'If I'm Being Honest'


	19. you're probably with that blonde girl

She didn’t dress up. She knew too many people would notice if she did and so she resisted the urge. She wore jeans that made her ass look good and decided that would be fine. The sudden urge to impress Daryl was harder to escape with each time she saw him, and she felt like every time she entered his proximity, she needed a cold shower. He wasn't the first good-looking man who'd been sweet to her, but he made her feel so young. Young with the way she tried for him, with the way that she felt truly enthusiastic for the first time in years to leave the house. 

For years, they’d co-existed and she’d _noticed_ him – that was undeniable – but it’d never _affected_ her like it was now. She’d never found herself trying to impress him but at some point, between him dancing with her to _The Smiths_ and him telling her that she was worth better than Ed, she’d given into the impulse just a little. What harm was there in making sure he knew that she was here and she was willing if he was looking for a summer fling. 

Daryl pulled up on the bike and she wondered if they couldn’t skip the party and just ride out to Wassaw and watch the ocean instead. Because she was a coward, that was why, because she’d never find the nerve to ask him for such a thing even with every certainty that he would say yes. The growing surety that he would never deny her anything made her somehow more scared to ask, like she was pressing on in a hesitant search for the point at which he would say no to something.

“See you later, Soph!” Carol shouted as she shut the front door and headed for the bike with a grin. “Good evenin’.”

He only grunted in address, shifting forward to make space for her, keeping his eyes forward. Carol had started to pay attention to the little hints he offered. Scattered like breadcrumbs were signs that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to her presence and each time she saw him, she allowed herself to grow just a little more hopeful that he could form an interest in her. It wasn't entirely impossible. At least, she could let herself believe that it wasn't long enough to have a good night with him. 

The ride to Andrea’s was a short one. Maddeningly so, Carol thought, as she braced herself to face the thrum of the party. Inside, it was packed tight. People she’d never seen before filled the space and among them, she found herself searching for familiar faces. There were only a few among the crowd. Lori and her husband. Andrea's little sister. Jim, but no Jacqui. 

“Hey!” Andrea exclaimed, wrapping Carol in a tight embrace as soon as she clapped eyes on her. “Good to see you! Let me grab you a drink. Merle’s out back if you wanna say hi.”

Daryl was hot on her tail as they weaved through groups of people who tried to drag them in like sinkholes, and by the time they made it to the garden, Carol was grateful for the fresh air. She glanced back at Daryl to say something and saw him draw his cigarettes out of his pocket, offering her one. She accepted it gratefully and wondered when he’d learned to read her so well, letting him light it for her as she regained control of her own breathing. It was remarkable just how quickly her own lungs could start to fight against her, and over such ridiculous little things. Still, she had needed the cigarette. 

“Baby bro!” Merle called out as he turned his head to address the pair of them, dropping his cards face down on the table and standing to wrap his brother in a hug. “S’good to see you, and you, Carol.”

He didn’t try to hug her. She was grateful for that. Merle was nice - she had concluded after months of sceptical consideration - and he meant well but when he was drunk (and, she imagined, high), his touch made her shudder. Perhaps it reminded her of Ed in some strange way. She'd never pinned it down and she'd always tried to endure it with a smile. At some point, she realised that he had either noticed how she had tensed, or Andrea had said something because one day, he had stopped coming too close to her at all. 

Andrea appeared suddenly behind her, pressing a large glass of wine into her hand and a beer into Daryl’s. He shook his head, handing it to his brother and waving Andrea off when she tried to argue. Carol stepped away, leaning against the house as she finished smoking in peace and took a sip of the wine. 

She didn’t _plan_ to get drunk but without the excuse that she had to drive home, she knew that it was something of an inevitability. Andrea would keep her glass topped up and she would keep drinking out of a need for something to do. She _liked_ to drink, though she was always shy to admit it, too. Daryl would get her home. He wasn’t drinking and she’d have nothing to worry about even if he was. A part of her that she tried not to indulge found herself trusting him more than almost anybody else. He'd earned it though, and had yet to do anything that might make her doubt. 

Once the first drink was in her, there was little stopping what came afterwards. Andrea continued to fill her glass obediently, dragging her around by the wrist and introducing her to everybody that she hadn’t met before. Merle’s friends weren’t _exactly_ Carol’s crowd, but she forced herself to be sociable. The wine helped. All night, she found herself glancing back for Daryl, just to check that he was still there, like a kid on their first day of school. 

After about an hour she realised that there was no possibility of her returning before Sophia went to bed, so she wrote a text telling her not to stay up which she made Daryl spellcheck three times before she sent it. It was the first time she’d left Sophia alone at night and if it wasn’t for the quantity of alcohol in her system, she would’ve worried. Sophia was fourteen now, and theirs was the safest neighbourhood in the city. She'd raised a responsible daughter and there was nothing in truth to concern her but there was nothing rational about motherhood.

Mellow didn’t do justice to how wonderful she felt. There was something peaceful about giving up control and letting the night carry you wherever it chose to. She slipped into the bathroom to pee and burst out laughing at her own reflection. The dopey grin almost made her unrecognisable which might have been depressing if her mind wasn’t addled with easier feelings.

The opening bars of an Elton John song spurred her into action, wiping her wet hands down on her thighs as she hurried out of the bathroom. The hunt for Andrea was an eager one. She found her and snatched her away by her wrist. Carol bounced up and down in a euphoric state, mouthing along to the words as every insecurity melted away. If there was a camera on her in that moment, it would’ve captured her at her most beautiful.

Unbeknownst to her, Daryl was watching her with a greater determination to capture the moment better than any photographer could've. He was careful to log every inch of her in his memory. The way her smile remained broader than he’d ever seen it before. Her eyes held shut as she threw her head back. It wasn’t so much dancing as bouncing from one foot to the other with an enthusiasm that made his heart swell. Fingers held aloft delicately like they were playing some phantom piano. Daryl thought that he if he lost his sensibilities in old age and remembered nothing of his life, this would be the last fragment he could recall.

Carol stayed there in that bliss until the song ended and she searched for a place to sit, settling on the sofa’s arm as she caught her breath and Daryl thought, not for the first time, how nice it would be to have been sought out by her. If he was of a braver disposition, he would've pulled her back up to dance with him, even if all she did was lean against his chest and drag her feet sloppily along. 

All night, he was careful to keep his distance. He didn’t want to suffocate her. She was a grown woman, and she could look after herself, so he busied himself with other things. There was plenty by way of distraction. He skated around between different groups all night, never staying in one place too long until he settled on the couch and Amy struck up a conversation about his work. She was flirting, though it seemed to go right over his head. Daryl had always been oblivious to the efforts of women to win his affections. 

He had no clue that Carol was watching him. He had no idea that she had noticed Amy’s hand on his knee and been met with an irrational wave of jealousy. The sensation drowned her and she needed fresh air. She needed a cigarette. She needed another glass of wine. _I need to get a grip,_ she told herself.

Daryl noticed her go and fought the urge to follow. With a wincing smile, he returned his attention to the younger Harrison sister. Carol would come and ask if she needed him. She was fine and he needed to convince himself that she was not the only woman in the world. It was a tough undertaking when every thought was run through a filter of where she was and if she was alright and whether she was having a good night. Daryl tried somewhat persistently to think about something else but failed miserably time and time again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Olivia Rodrigo's 'driver's license' and the Elton John song is 'Bennie and the Jets'.


	20. do you feel loved?

It was another hour before Andrea came in search of Daryl wearing a expression that he could only describe as guilty. Guilty in the way a schoolgirl is for misbehaving. Not the _real_ sort of guilt. Still, it had him worried. 

“You might wanna take Carol home,” Andrea suggested meagrely, avoiding his eye contact. “She’s started drinkin’ Merle’s whiskey out of the bottle because we ran out of wine. Might wanna nip it in the bud but that ain’t my business.”

With a concern that he couldn’t justify, he followed Andrea outside and found Carol sat cross-legged on top of the table. He might not have been so worried if she weren’t swaying precariously in a way that might send her tumbling to the floor with one wrong move. He'd never seen her this drunk before, not even close to it, and he wondered what the hell had possessed her. If she was having a good time, he might've have been less concerned, but she was wearing the fake smile that he knew better than any genuine one. 

She reached distractedly for the whiskey and took another sip, wiping at a drop that slipped down her chin. Either she hadn’t noticed Daryl step outside or she’d elected to ignore his presence, and he couldn’t tell which until he stepped into her eye line and watched her face light up.

“Daryl! Will you take me out to Wassaw on the way home?” Carol asked with a childish wonder that melted him. “I wanna see the sea!”

Carol might have hesitated if there was a fibre of reason left between her ears but there was nothing left that hadn’t been soaked in alcohol. She concentrated hard to don her prettiest smile in a last-ditch effort to persuade him, but she could tell by the way that he was looking at her that it was already a yes. It was always going to be a yes where she was concerned. 

“Oughta get going then,” Daryl suggested, offering her a hand to get off the table. “Tide’ll be coming in soon. Yeah, it really _is_ that late.”

There was no circuit of goodbyes. Most people had left already, and it wasn’t until they walked through the house that they realised how few people were actually left. Amy sat abandoned on the sofa, nursing the same drink that she’d been holding for hours, and Rick and Lori were still wrapped up in each other’s company on the makeshift dance floor. Everyone had slipped away one by one and the night felt very suddenly like it was over. 

He was half holding her up as they made their way out to the bike. Like some bizarre balancing act, he helped her onto it first and then quickly mounted it himself before she had time to stumble. If it was anyone else, he might’ve been annoyed. He would’ve acted out of obligation as he always did but he wouldn’t have been happy to do it. Riding the bike with a passenger was already a pain, nevermind when they could barely stay upright. But this was Carol, and he couldn't have been mad with her if he tried. 

She wrapped herself tight around him like she was afraid to fall off and rested her chin on his shoulder. If she wasn’t so drunk, she might’ve been self-conscious in such close proximity, but everything felt so easy in that moment. “Will you teach me to ride myself someday?”

Daryl drove them up to the bay, cutting through the pedestrian shortcuts that Carol had frequented as a girl. It was the middle of the night. There would be nobody there but them. He set the bike down where dirt gave way to sand and let Carol kick off her shoes, leaving them beside the back wheel. She was glad she'd asked now that they were here. It was so beautiful that she couldn't bring herself to regret it, even for a second. 

“You feeling alright?” Daryl questioned softly as the pair walked down to the water’s edge, watching her drift dangerously in one direction then the other. It wasn’t a short ride and he worried that the journey would only make her nauseous, but it seemed to have had no such effect. The way she beamed every time he took her out on the bike hadn't gone unnoticed, and he'd lodged, somewhere in the back of his mind, a promise to teach her one day. 

“More than alright,” Carol breathed as she let the icy water splash her feet. “There’s something so special about the ocean. Don’t know what it is but it’s the only thing I’ll never grow tired of. Feels like home, you know?”

Daryl didn’t know what she meant. Not at all. He’d always hated the sea. It meant being asked awkward questions about why he was still wearing his shirt. It meant getting sunburnt for no good reason. It meant finding sand in every crevice for days afterwards. The forest was home to him, but he was happy that the sight of the water brought a smile to Carol’s face. It was in Carol's dimples that he thought he felt most at home, watching real joy spread across her face. 

Contentment seldom graced her face, but she was perfectly calm as she watched the water curl in with every shallow wave. She smiled like she was remembering something wonderful and then suddenly, it was like she noticed the moon and her face fell as she snapped around to look at Daryl. 

“Shoot! You have work in the morning,” Carol recalled and started back towards the bike. “We should head home. You should have told me that you needed to go!”

Daryl caught her by the wrist as she passed him and shook his head, waiting until the crease in the centre of her forehead softened. He didn’t have to say it out loud for her to know that he was happy there. She let the first hint of a smile onto her face again as she watched him watching her. They stood there in a freeze frame until the cold picked up and Carol shivered. If he’d been wearing a jacket, he would’ve wrapped it around her shoulders in a gentlemanly fashion, but he wasn’t and so instead, he led her slowly back to the bike and drove them home.

He suspected she had fallen asleep at his back. Her breaths were so steady and her body so relaxed against him. When she started first humming, then singing the words of some song he vaguely recognised, he almost had to pull them off the road just to get his breath back. Her voice was soft in a way that made him sleepy and he was relieved that they were only a couple of streets from her house when she started up her whispered serenade.

Carol flopped off the bike, still uncertain on her feet, and he couldn’t resist the urge to help her inside. Quiet as he could, he took the keys from her and unlocked the door with a soft click. The last thing he wanted was for Sophia to wake up and worry that someone was breaking in. Easily, he steered Carol up the stairs and to her bedroom, looking in the bathroom for a makeup wipe and handing it to her as she dropped back onto the pillow, still fully dressed. He shouldn't have been so excited to be in her bedroom again, even for a few minutes, but he couldn't help himself.

“Thank you for tonight,” Carol mumbled as she scraped the thin layer off her face and smiled dozily at him, reaching to cover her hand with him for a second before she was distracted again by her state of dress. “I can’t sleep in these jeans.”

Before he had realised what she was doing, her jeans were halfway down her legs and he was doing his utmost to keep his eyes at a respectable height. He disappeared momentarily to fill a glass with water for her and returned to find her curled up under the comforter with her eyes shut. Asleep, he suspected, and found himself saddened that the night was over so quickly. 

“Y’know, you’re a really good fake boyfriend. Better than the real thing in my experience,” Carol mumbled. She was too tired to make it sound teasing and so it sounded entirely genuine on her lips. “Might have to stake a claim.”

The colour that stained his cheeks would’ve been visible, even in the lowlight of the bedroom, and he was glad her eyes remained closed. In an unexpected rush of confidence, he pressed a kiss to her temple before slipping out and downstairs.

Daryl didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to face his empty house and his empty bed and his dog that looked at him with pity every time he walked through the door. Carol was right though, he did have to get up at the ass crack of dawn for work. He'd sleep a little better knowing that she was safe and sound in her bed. He could recall her serenade and sing himself to sleep with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Florence and The Machine's 'Patricia' and the song Carol starts singing is Joni Mitchell's 'Big Yellow Taxi'.


	21. i don't feel at home without you

When Carol woke the next morning with a pounding headache, she tried to piece together the events of last night. It was late. She’d slept right through and she only hoped that Sophia had gotten up and walked to school. Later, she would feel bad, but right now she felt too atrocious for remorse.

Most of the night was blurry. She remembered the first hour without difficulty, but from there things got fuzzy. Everything was a little hard to make sense of until the beach, until the Joni Mitchell song that’d been on a loop in her head, until he kissed her on the forehead, and she had tried so hard not to smile. The sight of him was so unforgettable that it offered her a little clarity. 

Carol rang him as soon as the Advil had started to do its job. She knew he’d be at work, but he normally answered his phone anyway. Sure enough, he picked up with a teasing enquiry about how she felt this morning. There was no hiding her hangover, not when she winced audibly every time he spoke just a decibel too loud into her ear. She should've been angry with herself for getting so drunk but the bliss it had awarded her felt worth it. Carol had fallen into a cycle of making reckless decisions and hoping they would get her what she wanted. What point was there in stopping now?

“You wanna come over for dinner tonight? No wine, I promise. I think I’d chuck my guts at the sight of it. Just BBQ short rib,” Carol offered, and she wondered when she’d got so brazen in her courting of him. _Probably around the same time he kissed me on the forehead_ , she thought. “I’ll even make cheesecake.”

“What’s this one in aid of?” He was half-joking but she didn’t catch the humour in his tone.

“I’m running out of excuses over here,” Carol admitted as she started scouring through the cupboards for graham crackers. “Maybe I just enjoy your company. Call it a thankyou dinner for last night if it helps you sleep at night.”

Daryl told her he had to go, that he’d see her this evening, and she let him. It felt so impossibly easy then, in that very moment where everything seemed just a little bit more possible. Asking him to come over felt like second nature, as if it was expected somehow. The way Amy pawed at him last night had been the last straw for her and she found that she was sick of playing the long game. All her life, she'd waited patiently for other people to make decisions for her and it had never gotten her very far. 

By the time that he turned up, she was fresh as a daisy again and presenting herself, along with Savannah’s finest short rib, on a platter. Sophia sent a text at lunch reminding Carol that she was staying at Quinn’s tonight and she’d head straight there after basketball, so once again it was just they two. Though she was guilty with the sensation, she found herself pleased to catch Daryl alone again. 

“How was work? I hope you weren’t too exhausted after last night,” Carol offered as she scooped potato salad onto his plate. A week ago, she might have apologised for the innuendo, might have taken it back, but this evening, she resisted the urge. He was old enough to handle a flirtation or two. 

“Nah, we’re almost done with the place now. The job’s easier than most, just me teaching monkey-brains how to hammer a nail. Don’t require much in the way of brain power,” Daryl stated as he began to eat. “Thought you was working today too? You call in sick?”

“Jacqui caught wind of last night’s antics and covered my shift. I owe her _big_ but it meant that I could stay in bed all morning so I’ll pay the price later.” When she'd woken and called the office hurriedly to apologise, Jacqui had answered the phone and told her that Jim came home with news of Carol's antics at the party and she'd decided that she didn't need her Friday morning Zumba class that desperately. 

Everything felt natural. Carol let herself flirt in the way she’d always tried not to. There was something in the silences between their words that made her want to act impulsively. She told herself not to. Told herself that no matter how he’d acted when she thought he wasn’t looking that nothing was promised. Nothing _was_ promised but hell if Daryl Dixon wasn't worth taking a risk or two. 

For the first time, he seemed entirely at ease and she wasn’t trying to dismantle that. He leaned back in his chair once he was done eating, looking at her with a bashful smile that made her blush. She would've given up everything just to be on the receiving end of that smile for a little longer. 

“Cheesecake?” Carol suggested as she rose, stacking the plates and carrying them into the kitchen with her. The domesticity felt like second nature to her. It wasn’t a chore like it once had been and it wasn’t some elaborate performance that she was putting on for him, it was simply how they were together. It took no effort at all to do these things for him in hopes of nothing more than a smile in return. She was finally starting to understand what Michonne meant about gratitude; in truly selfless circumstances, a person didn't need it or even want it.

He hadn’t changed after work. She hadn’t noticed right away but the specks of dust against his collar gave him away and the slight scent of sweat on him when she dropped close at his side told her for certain. Twenty-four hours ago, she would’ve thought this was a negative sign; he was letting appearances slip and he wasn’t _trying_ as hard and clearly, he wasn’t interested in impressing her anymore. Today though, after the way he’d grabbed her wrist at the beach, it told her that he’d been eager to see her. It told her that he'd seen going home to change as a waste of time when he could get to her place ten minutes earlier without the detour. 

The cheesecake was just as glorious as he’d been expecting. She really did work miracles in the kitchen and he found himself grateful to sit at her dinner table so often these days. He found himself grateful to be on the receiving end of her nurture. It made him giddy to think that she'd go to such trouble for him, nor no reason other than _wanting_ to. 

When they were finished, he was the first to stand. He took their empty plates through to the kitchen and laid them in the sink so effortlessly that he didn’t know why Carol was looking at him with such intensity when he returned to the dining table. It was a simple act but there was something so routine in it that Carol couldn't bear to think of ever taking the dishes to the sink herself again. This balance they had struck of doing one another favours until the record was so long that with each minute act, the slate was wiped clean again. It felt to Carol as if they were beyond owing one another, because who had the heart to try and quantify any of this anyway. 

What it was that possessed to throw her qualms aside and meet him in a tender kiss before he’d made it back to his seat, she remained unsure. Once she had the taste of his lips though, it didn’t seem to matter where the impulse had come from. He tasted of raspberries and tobacco. It was chaste in a way she didn’t mind, like they were both at the beginning of something unsure. For a finite moment, it was everything that’d she let herself imagine and then she pulled back.

Daryl’s expression was one she couldn’t make sense of. Something that she couldn’t put her finger on and for a second, she thought he felt the relief that she did that the ice had, at long last, been broken. Her expression remained stoic, waiting for him to speak. She bit her bottom lip and let the silence loom over them like an impending storm. She'd wait for him to speak no matter how long he took, but with each passing second, her face fell as the dread set in that she had misread the signals. 

“’Should probably head out. Sophia’ll be home soon,” Daryl blurted out as he rushed for the door, shouting a goodbye as he left.

Fight or flight served him poorly and not for the first time in his life. It wasn’t until he was already halfway home that he realised his mistake. A mistake he didn’t know if he had the gall to come back from. Every impulse told him to turn around. To walk back into the house and to stand there and to wait in that uncomfortable silence until she figured out what would come next. She needed time to process it, of that he was sure, but maybe leaving her to face it alone wasn’t the best decision. He couldn't bring himself to choose for them, not when she had spent so long at the mercy of other people's choices, but it was his choice _too_ she supposed and the woman he had come to know was far too amenable to choose _for_ him. 

Carol was so much wiser than him though, and though he’d run, he’d left him heart in her possession in the hopes that she would handle it with care. No matter what came next, he had the kiss to tide him over. It was more than he'd ever allowed himself to expect and the thought that it might have been one of life's coin toss moments: a beginning and an end bound in the same brief moment, he feared that the first might be the last as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Tanerelle's 'Nothing Without You'


	22. i'm starting to think that i never actually had you

It had been almost three weeks since Carol had last found herself with her therapist. Every week, it would get to the day before her appointment and she would ring to reschedule because she had nothing to say. Things had been going smoothly and she’d forgotten just how desperately she’d need Michonne once things fell apart again. On Friday night, she had left a voicemail for the therapist asking if she could book an appointment for first thing Monday morning.

Carol had collapsed onto the sofa in front of Michonne and started a dramatic retelling of the entire series of events. Dramatic was an undeniable description for the way she told it. There was an undercurrent running through every shared moment since that first morning at Andrea’s that she would never have acknowledged without hindsight. Everything seemed, at least the way she told the story now, to have been leading up to the moment when she mistook his intentions and ruined a perfectly good friendship.

“And when did you give yourself permission to fall in love again?” Michonne asked, glancing at Carol over her notepad. “The human body isn’t wired like it ought to be, and trauma can make things ever harder to process. When it comes to love, our hearts are so often ten steps ahead of our brains.”

“I’m not- I’m not in love with him. Sure, I think he’s handsome and he’s sweet and maybe I have a _crush,_ but I’m not in love. I barely know the guy.”

Carol had been talking herself out of her own emotions for so long now that it was second nature to her. She didn’t need to _try_ to tell herself that she wasn’t in love. If she said it enough times then eventually it would be true, and that eventuality was drawing nearer with every foolish decision she made to push Daryl further from her reach.

“You’re this hung up over a guy you barely know? If it was just a crush, you wouldn’t be paying me $40 an hour to tell you how to fix it,” Michonne pointed out and Carol wanted to strangle her just to get her to stop talking for a minute. “You came here hoping that I would tell you that you don’t love _him,_ you love the _idea_ of a man who helps you out when ask him to, and who’s kind to your daughter, and who doesn’t hit you or get blackout drunk every time he leaves the house. Maybe that’d be easier, if it was the truth, but you’ve been surrounded by men fitting that bill for the past four years and you’ve never come to me before panicking because you kissed them.” 

The room seemed to draw in around her ears and Carol felt nauseous. Her gut twisted as it had in her bedroom after the dinner with Ed and Paula, as it had when she watched Paula grab Daryl’s wrist at the wedding, as she had a hundred times within her own marriage. She wanted a cigarette. She wanted the burn of a cigarette and some fresh air and more than anything, she wanted Daryl’s silent presence at her side.

“Ain’t you supposed to make me feel better?” Carol snapped and for the first time in months of being sorry for every misstep, she met no urge to apologise for it. Michonne was paid an awful lot of money to make things seem easier and simply put, she wasn’t doing her job.

“My _job_ is to help you cope with your trauma and the mental fallout of it. You loving someone who may well love you back if you give him a minute isn’t a product of your trauma. It’s not a bad thing and so you being scared of his rejection, or of screwing this up before it’s even started? That’s healthy, Carol. That’s damn near the healthiest impulse you’ve had in my four years of treating you.”

Carol focused her attentions on the snow globe which sat on Michonne’s coffee table. Her gaze explored the landscape millimetre by millimetre. The silence was taught with unsaid words and she didn’t know what to say, for once it was _her_ trying to hold an uncomfortable silence.

“If you want to pretend this doesn’t matter to you, that’s fine. If your desired outcome is that you look at him and feel nothing, then I can help accomplish that. Busy yourself with other things. Focus on your work, on Sophia, start a new project to fill your spare time. See _other_ people. It sounds like he’s the only other adult you’ve seen socially in weeks. Give yourself a little time away from him and things will begin to go back to how they were before.”

Carol left with that prescription and told herself that she would commit to it. She started going to the gym even more than she had before the wedding, simply for something to do. In the evenings, she forced Sophia to spend time with her after she’d finished her homework. When she craved real conversation, she would reach out to her friends – to Jacqui or to Lori – but it just made her miss Andrea more. 

She was not yet ready to face her. Every time that she showed up at their place, she ran the risk of bumping into Daryl and she wasn’t prepared for that yet. Michonne assured her with each passing week that the time away from Daryl would eventually do its work and she would grow indifferent to him, or at least something nearer to indifferent than her present infatuation.

When Andrea called to see if she was alive after six weeks of cancelled plans and stunted conversations, she apologised for the first time in forever. It was a justified split for her routine, she told herself, as there truly was something to be sorry for here. 

She’d been saving her next apology for Daryl. Nervousness prevented her from reaching out but sooner or later they would bump into each other in the grocery store or in the street and she would finally say what she had been trying to find the words for since he’d run off that night.

“Well, I miss you. Maybe you could find some time in your busy schedule to come over for dinner next week. I’ll kick Merle out for the evening, and we can just have a girls’ night. How about it?” Andrea suggested and just like that, Carol let her guard slip. She forgot every precaution she'd taken simply because she needed Andrea more than she needed to avoid Daryl. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is nilu's 'Are You With Me?'


	23. maybe she wants you, maybe she's shy

Daryl had barely seen anybody since it happened. The dog really had become his only point of contact for a while. He’d finally wrapped up work on the house in Guyton and he was waiting for a new contract to roll in before he lost his mind.

He was so irrationally afraid of bumping into her that he became nothing short of a recluse. All he did was hunt on the weekends and sit in front of the tv and eat ramen every day. Daryl had settled himself into a routine whereby the false allusion that everything was fine could be maintained. Carol was busy and so was he and when they saw each other next, everything would be entirely normal again. It was a foolish notion and he couldn’t bring himself to believe in it for long but it was something to keep him sane.

The day after she’s kissed him, an event that he was still trying to wrap his head around, he’d hopped onto the bike and driven all the way to her house before chickening out. Daryl hoped that she hadn’t spotted him through the window. He’d hoped that she was at work or with a friend so that she would never find out.

He’d tried to rationalise his reaction. He’d tried to tell himself that it was completely valid and that if he went back and tried to speak to her about it, she would understand, but this was Carol. Carol who was so chronically insecure about everything that she couldn’t _see_ a sad face without spiralling about how she was the cause of it.

Never in his forty-four years of life did he imagine that he’d be going to his brother from relationship advice. Merle had always been the type to move on quick and find fresh meat. Daryl had thought his brother lacked the commitment gene entirely until he met Andrea. It took four break ups in the first year and more ridiculous arguments than Daryl had ever thought possible, but eventually they’d settled down.

Showing up on Merle’s doorstep with a pouting lip felt like a failure somehow. All his life he’d been trying to prove that he could stand on his own two feet and every time he ended up back here in desperate need of help or reassurance, he felt like he was back at square one.

Andrea let him in, eyes beadily watching him for signs. Carol had told her the whole sordid tale and made Andrea swear not to get involved. She’d intended to keep her word this once and stay out of things, but the listless expression Daryl wore had her reconsidering.

“Brother!” Merle exclaimed, clapping Daryl on the back as he dropped beside him with a thump. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

They did not come to one another often. Brothers were supposed to be close, but they never had been. It had been coincidence entirely that they had the same parents and they had never pretended to have much in common, but they were family, and even to a Dixon, that meant something.

“I really screwed this up, brother,” Daryl confessed with a softness he never displayed in Merle’s presence. “I pussied out, ran off and now, she ain’t called me or nothin’. I miss her, man, but she don’t want me anywhere near her now.”

Merle laughed at him. He hadn’t expected anything better from his brother but still, it stung a little to be met with such harsh judgement in the face of his confession. Merle had always had it easier with women and it certainly wasn’t become of his looks, and Daryl had hoped that he might garner a shred of sympathy for this.

“You really are a sap, Darylina,” Merle chuckled. “Call the bitch. You ran off, so the ball is in your court. You gotta act somehow.”

Andrea’s presence in the kitchen went unnoticed, perhaps he simply hadn’t heard her but more likely he’d failed to consider that she wasn’t as tight-lipped as Merle. If he had been thinking clearly, he never would’ve made such a confession where she could hear him, but he wasn’t thinking clearly.

She listened closely to Daryl’s side. She was curious about the discrepancies in their tale. They ran parallel, never really the same in essence, due to the glaring contrast in their retellings. Carol had insisted she had acted on an unrequited feeling. Daryl said the same of himself. If she could bang their heads together, it might do them some good. _Idiots._

Perhaps she could’ve minded her own business. Eventually, one or the other of them would’ve cracked and the situation would’ve been resolved somehow. Neither of them had the resolve to let this go on much longer, but the way they both whined so hopelessly was getting on her nerves. So, once Daryl was done with his complaining and had left, she enlisted Merle in her plan.

It seemed a little cruel in truth, and she might’ve thought longer for something less heavy-handed were she not growing quickly tired of the cat-and-mouse chase she had been watching for so long. Merle scorned her for the suggestion and confessed that he didn’t think her capable of such cunning.

“If they know what’s good for them, they’ll kiss and make up quickly and we won’t even have to leave them in there for too long,” Andrea reasoned.

 _It’s for their own good_ , Andrea told herself as she set the foundations, calling Carol and inviting her over for brunch on Saturday. Merle did his part, asking Daryl to help him build a wardrobe and feigning gratitude for the help.

The die had been cast. Everything was set. Now there was nothing to do but wait and hope that they wouldn’t be too harshly punished for their deception. Daryl was going to kick Merle in the nuts, and though Carol’s methods would be much less practical, Andrea knew that she would be hurting just as badly afterwards. All going well, they would have at least a day or two to brace themselves for it. Florida was nice this time of year, maybe they’d take a spontaneous trip down once the plan was complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Tom Odell's 'Go Tell Her Now'


	24. you deserve to be put first

Carol was absolutely oblivious as Andrea corralled her into the spare room to show her how they’d redecorated with such an insistence. It had only been four days since she was last here. How much could they have done in that time? Foolishly, she wasn't suspicious at all of the circumstances. 

As soon as she was inside, Andrea pulled the door shut behind her and locked it. Carol spun around in confusion, spotting Daryl stood by the window with a flatpack wardrobe by his feet and a bewildered expression. It took all of five seconds for Carol to realise what this was, and if she hadn’t been struck urgently with a sense of suffocating panic, she might have been angry.

“Andrea, let us the hell out of here!” Carol yells as she smacks against the door, trying to ignore the anxiety that was building up in the pit of her stomach.

She slumped against the door in frustration, knowing that no amount of shouting and screaming would get her out of this situation, and she would simply have to face it. Daryl approached her, somewhat shyly, and looked at her like she was something breakable. In the absurd fantasy that had been sustaining Daryl, she was thriving and yet here all the evidence pointed elsewhere. 

“I can take the door off its hinges if you want,” Daryl offered with a seriousness that she hadn’t expected, and she couldn’t hold in the laugh that exploded out of her. “I know you ain’t keen on being locked in nowhere, can understand why too. I’ll wring Merle’s neck once we’re outta here.”

“Don’t,” Carol offered with the beginnings of a smile. “They mean well. I’ve been afraid to talk to you, thought you were angry or…upset or, I don’t know what I thought but I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Noticed.” It was the first time in four years that he’d confessed his own observation. More often than not, his presence was inanimate and without consequence, and he’d act like he’d never even seen something just to save you the embarrassment of having to address it. “Was tryna respect your space though.”

Carol didn’t answer him. She was too busy trying to rationalise the fact that they’re in a room with windows big enough that she could climb out of them in an emergency, and that Daryl’s plenty strong enough to break down the door should the need arise. It wasn’t a small room, not by any means, and it shouldn’t have made her nervous at all, but he was there with her and that at once made it better and worse.

For two months, she’d been successful in avoiding him. She’d been careful to shop at Ingles in the knowledge that he favoured Publix. Whenever she worked into the evening, she headed out of the back door in case he was driving past on his way home from a job. Every time she went to Andrea’s, she would find some excuse to ask if Daryl was there just so she didn’t bump into him.

“’Could see how scared you was, could see it in your face how you felt, and I didn’t wanna make you explain yourself to me,” Daryl confessed, eyes locked on her hunched form. “Thought being alone might make you feel better. I know you regret it, and tha’s fine.”

Carol snapped her head around to look him in the eye and merely looking at him reminded of just how badly her attempts at detachment had failed. Still, she looked at him and was faced with a greater arsenal of emotion than she thought she had capacity for. At the forefront in that moment, there was anger. Not at him necessarily, but anger nonetheless at what his words implied. _No_ , she corrected herself. What they _meant._ She was pissed at herself for not listening to Michonne’s advice. At Michonne for letting her give up so easily. At Daryl for being so impossibly selfless even in this.

“Wow!” Carol couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought I was the one who sucked at romance. I don’t _regret_ it. I thought I’d forced myself on you. You ran off so quick afterwards and I just knew I’d read all the signs wrong and I’d never see you again.”

“I ain’t made o’ glass, y’know? Even if you _had_ done something I didn’t like. Even if you’d properly upset me for a minute there, it wasn’t never gon’ be more than that. You could’ve kicked me in the crotch, and I think I’d have been mad for all of five minutes. My opinion o’ you ain’t so easily swayed.”

The unanswered questions didn’t even cross Carol’s mind in that moment. She was awash with a relief so intense that she was fighting hard against the urge to cry. She breathed out with such an intensity that it seemed there was nothing left inside of her. She dropped elegantly to sit against the door and became boneless. All the worry that had knotted itself like cartilage around her muscles dissolved and she was convinced that if she tried to stand, she would stumble.

Daryl dropped down beside her, leaving a few inches between them as he dropped his head between his knees and – at first Carol feared they were gentle sobs – laughed. What a pair. There was something sort of precious in their hopelessness. Something young and naïve that, in himself he found ridiculous, but in her? In her, it was glorious the way she blushed at his words and worried herself over his feelings as though she’d never had a crush before. It made him want to keep her safe from every little hurt the world might toss in her direction.

He’d missed the boat already where that was concerned. She already knew hurt. Hurt that even _he_ struggled to fathom, and it tainted this rose-tinted moment to think that her fears were not borne of naivety but something darker.

“I’m sorry,” Carol breathed. Daryl glanced at her, knowing there was more to come. “My therapist says I should save my apologies for the people who really deserve them. I’d been saving up all my sorrys for weeks when Andrea called because she was worried about me. Spent one on her, she deserved it, but you deserve a bigger one.”

Daryl opened his mouth to speak but she reached across the distance between them, setting her hand on top of his to silence him as she searched for the words to continue.

“I was an idiot. Worse than that, I was a coward. All it woulda taken was one phone call and everything might have been fine. I didn’t have the courage to talk to you and that was unfair, you _deserved_ that from me and I’m sorrier than I think you’ll ever understand.”

There were no words that would convince her. So often, she would simply shut her ears to reassurances and Daryl could sense it every time. He shuffled up beside her and let her tuck herself underneath his arm, remembering just how easy it was to simply exist with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Rhys Lewis' 'No Right to Love You'


	25. in some sad way i already know

When Andrea finally released them, Carol did not speak to her. She headed straight for the front door and was stood by her car when she felt him behind her.

“Everythin’ can go back to how it was before if it’s what you want,” Daryl offered, “or we can just go on avoidin’ each other ‘til someone locks us in a room together.”

Carol looked at him and felt her heart break. She’d been suspended in a reality where she could be as heartbroken as she liked as long as she went to work and looked after her daughter and avoided bumping into him. She’d been oddly content in her misery and now, she was being forced to choose. She could have her seemingly endless heartbreak, or she could force herself to get over him so that they could settle back into their uncertain tradition of mutually assured yearning. 

It sounded like a no-brainer. If she could have him as a friend or not have him at all, why was she even hesitating? Carol didn’t know if she could bear to see his face every day and wonder what might have happened if she hadn’t kissed him that night. For days and weeks and months, they might have persisted in this game of will-they, won’t-they. They might be an item by now, in some parallel timeline where she hadn’t jumped the gun.

“Before I kissed you or before the wedding?” Carol asked. This felt like a negotiation, somehow. “We’re never gonna be strangers, no matter how good we are at pretending. I’m never going to be able to look at you without seeing everything you did for me, everything you said to me. I’m never going to forget all that.”

Daryl hears her words and understands them for the first time. He doesn’t doubt what he is hearing. There’s nobody there to tell him that he’s got the wrong idea. He figures even if he has, he’s already lost her so what harm is there in a last-ditch effort to get her back? 

“Before I ran off and left you at the dinner table with no idea what I was thinkin’,” Daryl answered.

Carol doesn’t fall into his arms. There are no tears of joy and no declarations of love just yet. She resists the urge and figures she’s earned the right to keep her guard up just a little longer. She took a risk and it backfired. He was going to have to give her a little more.

“I remember the first time I clapped eyes on you. Andrea’s 40th. I didn’t have a clue who you were and I was nobody. Just Merle’s idiot kid brother. Thought you were damn near the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” Daryl drawled and he was talking more than he’d ever talked in front of her. “Never would’ve done shit about it. You were outta my league and I knew it. Wasn’t no shame in it and I was just glad to know you, glad you knew me from Adam.”

Carol remembered the first time they’d met. She remembered the way that he’d insisted on driving her home even though she’d brought her car with her, and the next morning she’d woken up to find her Suzuki parked on the driveway with the keys in the ignition. She’d thought he was sweet and handsome. She’d thought that she could love him if she let herself but it never crossed her mind that the opportunity would arise. 

“Thought I’d only have to get through the wedding and then I could go back to seein’ you a few times a year and hoping you’d say hi to me. But you kept asking me over and it just got harder to pretend. Didn’t wanna anymore.” He forced himself to keep hold of her gaze. Every instinct told him to look away, but he refused. It was too easy to misunderstand her words and actions. He needed every fragment of evidence he could piece together if he was going to make sense of her.“I _don’t_ wanna pretend anymore.”

“Pretend what?” It was barely a question at all. It was a challenge. She wanted him to say it out loud. Hearing the words would make it real. She needed it to be real.

“Pretend I’m not in love with you.”

Carol kissed him for a second time, right there in the street in front of his brother’s house, and she let her fingers twist around the nape of his neck, even as she pulled back and dropped down on her heels. She kissed Daryl and this time, he didn’t run.

He set his hands against her hips, refusing to let go like she might dissolve if he eased his hold on her. Turning her around, he led her to the bike and got on first, revelling in the way she slid closer to him than she typically would’ve dared. She didn’t give her car a second glance. It didn’t matter. She’d set the damn thing on fire if Daryl would drive her around on the bike. She'd shackle herself to him if it meant that he'd stay.

It was the middle of the day, but he drove her home and they headed straight to bed. Neither of them even let sex cross their mind. Everything had already happened so quickly and just being in the same room was euphoric after so long apart. Carol tucked herself into his side, still fully clothed, and refused to move for the rest of the afternoon.

Occasional words littered the easy silence. Questions that had gone unasked and unanswered. Declarations that neither had dared to make aloud before. Big things and little things and all of them so perfectly simple in the wake of what they’d endured up until this point. Carol was glad that Sophia was away for the weekend with her friends. She’d been reluctant to let her daughter go on the girls’ trip when she’d asked. What was she going to fill her time with? Wouldn’t she go mad without the constant and reassuring presence of her daughter? Now though, selfishly, she was glad to have nothing to do but soak in the reality of the situation.

“Order pizza for dinner?” Daryl suggested, stroking his fingers back and forth up across her shoulder.

She grumbled, tightening her hold on him like she would never let him beyond her reach again. Mumbled something he didn’t understand about not wanting to get out of bed and he accepted it without question, figured he’d survived longer without the things he wanted most. What was one skipped meal when he'd been starved of her for weeks now? 

Once the streetlights switched on, it became clear to both of them that he wasn’t leaving tonight. He would spend the night in her bed, as he had once before, and she would let herself sleep easy with him there. They slept in their clothes, out of a refusal to move moreso than anything else. When Daryl woke in the night to find her hand resting against his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, he smiled dozily and let sleep reclaim him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Hozier's 'Like Real People Do'.


	26. i'd like the company through every twist and turn

He tried to fight the impulse to run. He tried to ignore every whispering thought that told him that she deserved better. For a while, he succeeded without too much difficulty, but when she reluctantly extracted herself from his arms and went to shower, assuring him that she’d be back soon, his best efforts proved insufficient.

Once she returned, he tried his utmost to appear normal for her, but she could see right through him. There was no fooling her. Not after they’d already confessed to one another. Daryl found himself wishing that he’d held something back if only his ability to lie to her.

Carol didn’t question him immediately, she lured him downstairs with the promise of coffee and home-baked cinnamon rolls. Stood there, watching her pour him coffee in her bath robe, he wondered if he couldn’t talk himself into letting the charade continued.

“What’s going on up there?” she asked as she slipped the mug into his hand and ran her thumb along his jaw tenderly. “You’re thinking up a storm.”

There were so many unsaid words swarming Daryl’s mind and he wondered why they couldn’t just line themselves up cohesively. Every thought he’d ever had about her good and bad was fighting its way to the front of a very long queue and he had to take a moment to form a sentence that made sense.

“You’ve spent your whole life in Savannah. You’ve spent your life loving men who don’t deserve you. Don’t you think there’s something better for you out there?”

He wasn’t looking for a compliment. He wasn’t even seeking her reassurance. It was a genuine question and it broke Carol’s heart to hear him ask it. She wished she could make him see how glorious he was, but then she supposed he longed for the same thing.

“You’re right. I have spent my entire life trying to squeeze myself into a box someone else built. I was my father’s daughter, then I was Ed’s wife, then I was Ed’s ex-wife and then I met you and I was _me_ for the first time. There _was_ something better for me out there and I found it already.”

The cinnamon rolls were starting to burn under the grill behind her and she turned to switch it off, returning her attention him within seconds. Who cared if the pastry was a little browned? Other things took precedence.

“Just don’t want you to settle too easy,” Daryl admitted in a tone, bare of self-deprecation, full only of genuine concern for _her._ “You sure I’m not just the first guy who wasn’t an absolute jackass?”

Carol wondered when it had become that. If she could pin it down then she could make him believe her reassurances, but there wasn’t an instance that sprung to mind. She struggled to remember a time when she hadn’t already loved him at least a little. By the time he’d agreed to the wedding, she already felt saddened each time she looked at him like he was a missed opportunity. In another life, they were high-school sweethearts. That’s what she’d imagined but she’d never thought they’d get a chance in this reality.

“I’m never gonna be able to convince you of that,” Carol confessed sadly as she cupped his chin. “Hell, you think this is some combination of luck and coincidence and that if things were different, this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe they wouldn’t. But things happened like they did and I’m here and I love you and I’m not interested in a world where that didn’t happen.”

He can’t resist the urge to kiss her and it’s like in some strange way, the universe is telling him to. The taste of toothpaste and coffee on her lips is everything he’s been dreaming of all this time. It’s the easiest thing in the world to wrap his arms around her and let her settle himself between her knees. Daryl released her when the smell of smoke reaches his nose, and she hurried to try and salvage the now charred pastries. He ate without complaint, because what harm can a little burnt pastry do when he had the most beautiful woman in the world making him breakfast.

For the entire morning and then the afternoon, they curled up in front of the sofa and watch TV without really paying attention. He can’t bring himself to look away from her, afraid that if he does, she might vanish. It all seemed too perfect and he wasn’t used to that. _Get used to it,_ Daryl told himself as he raked his fingers through her hair.

He didn’t want to leave, and she didn’t tell him to. When the sun set and the streetlamps turned on, still he made no move to leave her. Sophia wasn’t coming home and he had no work to rush off to in the morning. There was no excuse that he could give to run. He didn’t rack his brains for one anyway.

There was the overwhelming urge to carry upstairs and do all the things he’d been thinking about since the first time he laid eyes on her, but it didn’t feel like the right time. Everything had fallen into place remarkably easy. It had been harder than he’d ever thought love could be, but they were on a twenty-seven-hour streak of near perfection and he didn’t want to break it. Patience was a trait that he had nurtured. He had wanted her for so long and this was the home stretch. He could be patient just a little while longer. What he was waiting for was unclear. But the time wasn’t right, he had decided, and so he would hold off until it was.

“I can _hear_ the cogs turning,” Carol mumbled into the low light of the living room. “You don’t need to keep wondering when you’re going to wake up.”

It was enough to ground him, to make him stop panicking about doing the right thing. It might have been easier to just follow the rules if he knew what they were. Nothing made any sense except for her being here, dropping her head to his shoulder.

When he kissed her, it wasn’t a release of everything he’d been burying, and it wasn’t a fireworks display right there on her couch. It was just a kiss and that was more than he could’ve hoped for. Daryl wanted nothing more than the press of his lips against hers and the closeness that it promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Ben Platt's 'Grow As We Go'.


	27. and in the morning, you adored me

They were prised apart in the morning. The world kept turning. Carol’s office wouldn’t run without her. Daryl had picked up a contract with the library. Staying here forever wasn’t a possibility. Carol kissed Daryl with such effortlessness that it made him weak at the knees. _This_ was his new normal.

Minutes passed slower as the day went on. It was ridiculous after all the time spent apart to struggle with the prospect of a few hours, but it broke the illusion. Their perfect pocked of time where reality couldn’t get at them and nothing seemed to be happening apart from their untouchable romance. Already, the bubble was burst.

Carol got off early. There were no meetings all afternoon and Herschel insisted he could answer the phone for himself if it rang. She wanted to be grateful, but she would go home and sit impatiently waiting for Daryl to finish work. Sophia would be home in a couple of hours and she realised that she would have to bring her daughter up to speed.

She wasn’t worried in the least. Sophia had been trying hard to get her mother back on the market for years. Her harsh critique of any man Carol looked twice at proved irrelevant here too. Daryl already had Sophia’s favour.

Still, the thought of telling somebody changed everything. It wouldn’t be _theirs_ anymore. She wasn’t so possessive as to try and keep things from her daughter, but it had been so easy without the world passing judgement.

And Sophia too was a concern; always the girl had insisted that she liked the idea of her mother happy again, but she’d never known a real relationship. The thought of sharing Sophia with anyone at all left Carol wound tight, and she couldn’t imagine how Sophia would face the possibility.

“Mom?” Carol startled up out of her seat, looking at the front door and realising that she’d been so lost in thought that she hadn’t heard it. “Hey!”

“Hey you!” Carol exclaimed, beginning a concentrated effort to appear normal as she asked about Sophia’s weekend and about her day at school. She thought she was doing well. Everything was normal until Sophia looked at her like she was crazy. “What?”

“You tell me,” Sophia said. “What’s got you in such a weird mood?”

Carol had hoped that she could put this off for at least a little while longer. She’d hoped that she could have Daryl here, even if he hid upstairs until the deed was done, just in case things went sour and she needed him. _You survived without him before,_ Carol chastised herself as she braced herself for impact.

“Baby, this is a good thing, and I don’t want you to think anything’s gonna change,” Carol began, watching Sophia’s face contort itself into one of bewilderment. “Daryl and I are…well we’re dating? We haven’t put a label on it but he’s gonna be around her a lot more and I just wanted you to know.”

The expression Sophia wore seemed a little confused. She let out a laugh suddenly, smile broad as she watched her mother. After a brief moment, Sophia breathed deeply and struggled to compose herself, becoming instantly serious.

“I already _knew_ , Mom,” Sophia confessed with ease. “The only one who _ever_ thought this was all fake was you. Daryl ain’t no actor. Neither are you. I’ve been tryna be patient but God, you two are infuriating, Mom. You’re the smartest person I know but sometimes you can’t see past your own nose.”

Colour stained Carol’s cheeks. She had not thought herself so obvious. If Sophia had seen right through it then had Daryl? Had Daryl known all along that she was just biding her time? It didn’t matter anymore, she supposed, when he had confessed in such plain terms his own affection.

She told Sophia every sordid detail and felt grateful to have a daughter so mature. Another girl might have cringed to hear about her mother’s love life, but Sophia listened tentatively to every word. After enduring Ed together for those years, there was nothing left unsaid between them, there couldn’t be if they were going to get through it without turning on each other.

“I knew something had happened,” Sophia admitted, biting her lip. “Daryl stopped coming around. You stopped smilin’. I figured somethin’ happened, figured you’d tell when you were ready, never imagined you’d be so dumb. I’m glad you sorted it out though, Mom. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

Tears filled Carol’s eyes. She wondered when she got lucky. When did everything in her life become so wonderful? Contentment washed over her, and she barely noticed when her phone rang, lighting up with Daryl’s name. It took her a moment to realise and another to answer the call, but the sound of his voice made her grin.

“You comin’ over?” Carol asked and she wondered how they’d ever survived without this. There was no question of whether she wanted him to or whether he wanted to, only whether it was possible. It was so much simpler without all of the performance. They’d spent too long pretending already.

Sophia sat and watched her mother listen to Daryl speak. It was tragically bizarre to see her mother wear a look of love. Never before had she seen the way her eyes lit up and every word was accented with affection. It was the expression Sophia imagined her Mom wore when talking about _her_ too, and she felt bad for every time she’d ever felt embarrassed of her mother’s love. If it looked like that, it was something to be proud of.

“He’s gonna come over for dinner,” Carol announced as she hung up the call. There was no hesitation in her voice anymore, Sophia noticed. Before, she would have feared Sophia’s approval and Daryl’s sense of obligation and a million other things that didn’t matter to her anymore.

Daryl showed up and there was no need to try. Carol didn’t fix her hair before she opened the door, she didn’t struggle for something to say to him, and she didn’t watch him for signs of discomfort. Sophia watched the pair with gratitude for the course of events that had brought them together.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d been keeping a log of all her mother’s smiles both big and small, forced and natural. With each one, she fought off the irrational fear that it might be the last time her mother smiled, but as Daryl dropped a kiss to the crown of Carol’s head, she barely noticed the smile at all. It was so insignificant in a world where her mother was a woman who had more than one reason to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Oh Wonder's 'Don't You Worry'.


	28. be like nobody’s watchin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! It feels crazy to be saying goodbye to this story already but it comes to a natural end and I want to work on other things. Follow me on twitter - @dykefilm - if you want to keep up with whatever comes next. I'm sure I'll be back soon! Really hope you enjoyed this story! Thank you for all the kudos and comments, it means a lot!

Everything fell into an easy pattern after that. Daryl never officially moved in, but by the end of summer, every shirt he owned had found a new home in Carol’s dresser. Perhaps they should’ve discussed it, but it didn’t feel necessary. Both of them knew what this wanted and what was the point in stretching it out on the dining table and negotiating terms and conditions.

When he told her that they were going out for dinner, it felt oddly out of place. They’d never been on a date. They’d said the big ‘I love you’ and he’d met her daughter and already when they went to the mall, he made a point to drag her to the jewellers and let her look in the window, watching which ones drew her eye. They’d skipped right over the dating part altogether.

“We both deserve a night off,” Daryl pointed out and it was true. They’d barely seen each other the past week. He’d been working fifteen-hour days on site and Carol had been working more than usual while Jacqui was on holiday. Life had gotten on top of them and they’d let it.

What they had was a surety and so it was easy to neglect it, but Daryl didn’t want to. He didn’t care if Carol was always going to be there to come home to at the end of the day, he wanted to make sure that he was still winning her over with every free second he had. It had been a matter of security at first, doing what he could to keep her interested, but he’d realised pretty quickly that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Every donut he had delivered to the office because he knew she’d forgotten breakfast. Every school run he took so that she could stay in bed a few extra minutes. Every bad joke he told just to hear her laugh.

He wore a suit simply because he knew she liked it and let her get dressed up to the nines for him. Struggling to find a compliment deserving of her as she stepped out of the bathroom, he’d settled on a simple gasp. His wordlessness still did most of the legwork in their relationship though he was trying to speak to her more.

“Ready to go?” Carol asked, smirking at his paralysed form. “I’ll drive, shall I?”

Daryl spurred into action and swept past her to protect the only thing that came close in worth to her. It had been a running joke since the first time she’d asked that she was going to just take off on the bike one day, with or without him, and every time she said, he made another promise to himself. _Next week._ It had been months and life had gotten in the way, but he meant it each time, truly he did.

 _Tonight_ , he thought. After dinner, he’d take her out and he’d stay up all night teaching her if he had to.

When they got to the restaurant and were seated, Carol realised that it was the same table. The same table they’d given them when Ed came to visit. She hadn’t been back since that night. The Fitzroy wasn’t the sort of place that she frequented but Daryl had insisted.

“Just the one tonight,” Daryl insisted as she ordered a glass of Merlot for herself, drawing a curious look. “You’re learning to drive tonight, once we’ve ate, I’ll show you the ropes and you can stop goin’ on about it.”

Carol’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. She’d been teasing him about it for months, but she’d never thought that he would give into her request. The bike was the only thing he seemed to love as much as her, and she wasn’t the surest driver on _four_ wheels, let alone two. She doesn’t bother trying to hide her enthusiasm, ignoring the way he scoffs at her like she’s ridiculous. The food arrived and she was still beaming wildly as she thanked the waiter with an enthusiasm that unnerved the poor man. She sat with her dinner, unable to drop the corners of her mouth as she looked at Daryl, still silent.

“Eat your damn risotto, woman,” Daryl said, rolling his eyes at her as he took a messy bite out of his burger, catching mayo in his stubble.

As they ate, Carol chatted to him easily about her day. Daryl listened to every word and found himself caring about things that would’ve sounded to a stranger entirely mind-numbing. The tides of life that carried them through the days were nice to keep track of.

Herschel’s daughter’s wedding was coming up and Carol had been invited which meant another wedding for the pair. Merle had finally decided to pop the big question so there’d be planning to do for that. The domesticity of it all felt surreal to Daryl who had never before let himself give into the temptation to just let things be for a short while.

“Oh my God,” Carol exclaimed, looking up at the ceiling with a smile. “I love this song. Do you know it?”

Daryl had heard the song but this was a different version, softer somehow, and it fitted Carol better than the original might’ve. He stood suddenly, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the booth, wrapping her up in his embrace and starting a narrow boxstep.

“Daryl!” Carol exclaimed, laughing into his shoulder. “People are tryna eat their dinner. This ain’t a dancefloor…people are looking.”

“Let ‘em look,” Daryl rasped, drawing her closer still and shutting his eyes. It wasn’t anybody else’s business where they danced. Already the world had kept them apart so long that he refused to abide by its rules anymore. If the world just left them alone for a while, he’d be perfectly happy to live in limbo with her.

Long after the song had finished, Daryl stood there clinging to her with everything he had and willing the moment to hold on just a second longer. He’d memorised every slight curve and if he woke blind tomorrow morning, he would recognise her with the same ease.

“We should finish eating,” Carol whispered, prying herself out of his hold and sitting back down to finish her now cool risotto.

Daryl tried to order dessert, but Carol stopped him, asking for the bill. She was too impatient to sit there any longer and pretend she was interested in food when she knew what was next on the itinerary. The bike was what had turned her head that night when they first met; she’d always wanted one and she’d always written it off as a mid-life crisis that she wasn’t willing to indulge.

He took her out to the mall’s parking lot and started carefully detailing everything she needed to remember. Carol firmed her brow, concentrating her attentions on what he was saying. She was overconfident by the time that she got on the bike and she sped off too quick, hanging on to a horse trying to buck her.

After the first failed attempt, Daryl reassured her and told her to get back on the bike. With each, somehow worsening, attempt, Carol’s resolve declined and by attempt number fourteen, she was ready to go home. Sullen in her defeat, she refused to meet Daryl’s gaze even as he took hold of her shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter,” Daryl insisted, waiting for her to look up at him through her lashes. “I’m always gonna be here to drive you to the beach at two in the morning. We can try again another day.”

Carol felt childish for her reaction. It wasn’t Daryl’s fault that she sucked at this. A more rational part of her told her that people took months to learn how to drive for the first time, so maybe she should lower her expectations. It wasn’t now or never.

“We can try again.” Carol repeated wistfully. “I’m always gonna be here to dance with you in restaurants, as long as we’re breathing.”

It was so true that it stung a little. They had been waiting their entire lives for each other and now, they had time. They had more time than they knew what to do with. It felt like a blessing to wake up every morning and knowing that they had the rest of their lives to do the things they’d always said they would. There were no time constraints now, after waiting for so long. Daryl drove them home and she let herself rest against his back, revelling in the feeling of the breeze and knowing this was just another night. Nothing special at all. Just one night among so many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is Leon Bridges' 'if it feels this good' and the song in the restaurant is Sleeping At Last's 'every little thing she does in magic'.


End file.
